Warlord Reaver
by Teemuu
Summary: An aged warlord considers the failures, defeats , and the opportunities he missed during his life.
1. Chapter 1

Warlord Reaver sat slumped in his chair, a goblet of wine in his hand. The howling winter wind outside could still be heard, deep within his formidable fortress. He was surrounded by trophies and mementos of his long life. Memories of past victories and defeats haunted him as the old man huddled near the fire.

Reaver remembered losing his parents to a dragon attack when he was a boy, and was taken in by a kindly Innkeeper. He bitterly recalled being forced to toil in drudgery as a servant of the inn till he was a teenager. A fond memory of a lost love spurred him to leave the inn, and he took up with a band of brigands that had kidnapped the Innkeeper's son. He didn't really want to be a part of their company, but seized the opportunity they represented and aided them in the kidnapping. He left that band of thieves soon after and became a guard for a caravan. The caravan was soon attacked and was almost overwhelmed by goblins, but he defended it desperately . He recalled he and the surviving guards stringing up the head merchant for his lack of planning. Later his new companions formed an adventuring band that sacked and razed the dungeons of Mammoth keep. He remembered a useless bard that touched his cold heart, but he spurned her affection . Later his band dispersed after narrowly surviving an encounter with the terror of the north, the infamous blackguard Sir Hildraxel . He then recalled being pressed into the service of the Great Host against the gnollish horde of their god king Yeenoghu. It was a grand battle, but they were ultimately doomed. Reaver's keen tactical mind saw it before anyone else, and promptly ordered the men under his command to withdraw from the battle. The Great Host was defeated, but his retreat saved many knights and warriors who swore allegiance to him. Afterwards he became one of the most feared mercenary lords of the north, a cunning general that worked for the various city states that remained after the Great Host's collapse. His army known as the War Ravens, made him a fortune mostly supporting coups and civil wars, but also battling marauding orcs, goblins, and gnolls, even while civilization collapsed around them. The gnolls had slowly pushed their way into the city states of Northern Grom in the past century and soon they threatened to pour into the rich Central Grom holdings. The world was on the brink of Armageddon.

Reaver drank deeply the wine from his goblet and moved his chair closer to the fire. A life time of accumulated riches would mean nothing soon he thought to himself.

*knock knock*

Reaver turned and saw one his long time companions. Franksada was still a tall man dressed in heavy plate armor, and despite his years he still had his short blonde hair and a boyish quality to his features. He and his brothers helped him string up that merchant so long ago in the past and the gifted warrior had been at his side ever since.

"Boss….I got news from Ymir's Thaig. It's being invaded by gnolls. Yimmy requests our help before they siege her city, " stated Franksada. " Who knows, maybe she'll pay back the debts she owes us, " he added with a chuckle.

Warlord Reaver shook his head. "I warned Ymir, the Great horde would turn on the dwarf holds before marching south. I will not risk any of my War Ravens to aid her, " spat the old tactician.

Franksada frowned. "Her Thaig is fairly mountainous, and you of all people should know the excellent state of her fortress. If we double march to her hold, we can give the gnolls a black eye they won't forget. Who knows, it might even be the battle that turns the tide of war. Those laughing dog guys need to be taken down a peg or two, "declared the aged knight.

Warlord Reaver shook his head again. "My orders have been given. It's too risky and dangerous to do a forced march into a war zone during winter! Regrettably Ymir's Thaig will fall, but it will buy the rest of us a few more months, " he explained with a sigh. Though Warlord Reaver was a skill strategist he always took the most conservative and advantageous route. Franksada's plan had its merits and but reinforcing the dwarves was nothing short of foolish heroics and he would not commit his army to such a desperate plan, regardless if it was to help a friend or not.

Franksada closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He then took a letter from his pocket and presented it to his commander and companion. Reaver raised an eyebrow at this unexpected response from his right hand man. "It's been a great run Reaver, a very long and profitable run I might add. We won a lot of battles, earned a lot of loot, drank a lot of wine, and banged a lot of bitches, but I can't abandon Yimmy. Those are my resignation papers, "explained the old knight.

Reaver was stunned and opened the letter in shock. He scanned the form and smirked. "I quit? That's all you wrote?", he questioned before putting the letter in his pocket.

Franksada shrugged, " You know I'm not that big of a writer. Hey if it makes you feel better, if we somehow win, I'll be begging for my old job back before the spring campaign heh, " jested the warrior.

Reaver chuckled and waved his friend away. "Good luck, "was his only reply. Reaver felt a small part of him wanted to join his friend, but it was too risky. Marching his army to attempt to stop the horde of Yeenoghu was simply foolish. He made his fortune on avoiding risk and he wasn't about to start now.

Franksada drew his blade and saluted his old friend with it before leaving the room. Reaver half expected a final wise crack from the man, but was satisfied with his silent farewell.

Reaver then ran a bell and a servant came in to refill his goblet. He settled into his chair once again and contemplated his fate. The attack on the dwarven holds might buy them three months at the least almost two years at most, depending on the stalwart nature of the defenders. That would give him plenty of time to liquidate his assets in Grom and move to perhaps Thyatis or Darokin. The speculation would drive the property prices down, but if he timed his sales after a spirited dwarven victory , he could still get decent money he thought. He wondered even if moved to the south, how long would it take the enemy to reach him, how long would humans and their demi human allies still walk as freemen before the seemingly endless tide of gnolls drowned them.

Before Reaver could calculate an answer, suddenly the room was filled with a loud sucking sound then the cackling of bestial laughter.

Reaver grabbed his blade and sprang off his chair. He was surprised to find a dozen heavily armored gnolls had somehow invaded his study.

"The Warmaster! He is here! Slay him! ", shouted a particularly brutish looking gnoll in its native tongue. Reaver understood him perfectly though, one of the few skills he learned under the innkeeper and his friends was the ability to understand a vast array of languages.

Reaver wasn't sure how they penetrated his defenses. His keep was hundreds of miles away from the horde, and his walls were specifically warded against magics. Only the most powerful of enchantments could penetrate them, and he wondered why the enemy had targeted him. It had been decades since he had garnered any reasonable fame .

Regardless of how the gnolls appeared, Reaver slashed at the enemy closest to the door. He admitted his reputation was much greater than his actual skill, but he was still considered a formidable opponent with the blade. Instead of a wide slash against multiple foes, he kept his slashes and thrusts short and controlled, in hopes of overwhelming one enemy and allowing him to dash for the door. He scored several strikes against the gnoll, which staggered back, but unfortunately another of the hyena faced monsters took its place.

Reaver scowled and half expected his guards to come storming into his study at the signs of combat, but instead he heard screams from outside the door. Reaver guessed more than the dozen gnolls before him had invaded his keep, and he would not be receiving aid soon. He also saw that these gnolls were different from any others he had seen. They were dressed similar to elite flinds, but they seemed to be from a coalition of tribes. Even though Gnolls worked together on a tribal basis, individual tribes were fiercely territorial and competitive. They would never cooperate on a squad level, even if it was to kill a particularly hated enemy.

Reaver kicked his chair to its side to form a temporary barrier as he backed himself to the corner. A massive gnoll flail barely missed him, but one of the odd gnoll chain metal bars managed to strike him in the arm, stunning him and causing him to involuntarily drop his blade. A gnoll rushed the now defenseless warrior, but Reaver produced a short sword at the last moment, and slashed his charging foe in the nose. The gnoll recoiled, but Reaver pressed forwards and hacked the creature in the neck. It was a messy strike that sprayed the room in blood, but it forced the gnoll away before it fell on its back in agony. The old warrior learned long ago to always carry a second blade.

Reaver hoped that his bloody kill would intimidate the monsters, but the blood seemed to stoke their fury. The gnolls howled and surged forwards at him, and Reaver closed his eyes and braced for the worse.

The old warrior waited for a killing strike but none came. He opened his eyes and saw that the pack of gnolls that sought his blood had crashed into an invisible barrier of some sort. They were comically squeezing their snouts and grasping what appeared to be an unseen pane of glass. Reaver wasn't sure what was happening but thought his foes resembled a horrific troupe of mimes.

"I really hate gnolls. Not only do they smell, but they are stupid, wreck the land, make that hideous noise,…and oh did I mention that they smelled ? ", stated a tall elf in a form hugging green robe next to him. "Oh hey Fetch, betcha didn't expect me here did you? " she added.

Reaver looked at the elf curiously. Even with the form fitting robe he could not discern its gender. It's angular face and long dark hair definitely look feminine but he could not spot any breasts on its frame. What was more curious was that she or he called him Fetch. He hadn't been called that since he worked at the inn, he took the name Reaver soon afterwards and had never been referred by that shameful name ever since.

"My name is Warlord Reaver. Who are you , and why are these gnolls in my keep! ", demanded the Mercenary General.

The elf held out its hands in feigned terror. " Oooh….Warlord Reaver….ooooh big and scary …..,"teased the elf before knocking its hands on the invisible wall. "Listen Fetch, and don't tell me your name isn't Fetch, cuz I saw you react to that name. My name is Lady Surry and I just saved your hide. These gnolls aren't from this world, they stumbled on a temporal rift caused by the big fight with the Githyanki. These are the last remnants of the Great Horde and decided to seek you out for revenge. That's great and all except they don't know too much about alternate realities or temporal mechanics. They pretty much hopped into this world, and sought out the equivalent to our beloved Warmaster Fetch, which happens to be you….the terrible Warlord …ahem….Reaver. "

Reaver wasn't sure what she said, but he did not like her tone. He had killed men for much less. He considered stabbing this wizard or whatever she was at close proximity, but he thought her death might bring the gnolls upon them.

Surry saw Reaver glance at the gnolls and nodded. "Ahh I get it, you're worried about the shaggy clown show. Here let me do what I came here to do. " With that she snapped her fingers and two streams of distinct glowing silver motes appeared. In a flash the invisible barrier holding the gnolls vanished. Reaver expected to be trampled by the gnolls, but a bolt of lightning struck the lead gnoll, before arcing multiple times around the room striking its comrades. The gnolls fell dead, ozone and charred flesh wafting from their bodies.

"Sorry about the scent Fetch err I mean Reaver…", she said before another stream of motes gathered and then reduced the slain gnolls to dust. " There all better," she smiled.

Reaver dropped his jaw at the display of power. She was definitely a wizard of some sort, but there was definitely none that powerful in his world, at least none that he knew of. As Reaver blinked his eyes in disbelief, a bloodied Franksada burst into the room.

"Reaver! Gnolls have penetrated into the keep! ….Surry?", asked the tall warrior in surprise.

"Frank? ", questioned Surry.

"The one and only! ", declared Franksada proudly before hugging the green robed elf.

Reaver wasn't sure what was happening. Did the entire world go insane? " Wait..wait…you two know each other? Who is she Franksada?" demanded the Mercenary General.

Franksada rolled his eyes and grinned. "You can't make me talk. I don't work for you anymore …remember! ", he proudly stated. Franksada watched Reaver go red for a few seconds then relented with a smile. " Ok..ok….I met her on a quest to the dimensional city of Sigil…or was that Axis… you know the trips I always invite you to join me on, but you are too whiny to come. Anyways she found me and started calling me Frank. I obviously didn't know her, but after a couple bottles of wine, everything was made clear. Apparently she's your daughter from an alternate dimension, where you are called Fetch..the waterboy of all things.. HAH! Seemed you banged the brains outta Brita the Pure..as she's known on this world, and you had twins. "

Surry frowned as Frank revealed her heritage,"Oh please...no hugging or touching . That would be awkward," she said while rolling her eyes.

Reaver was stunned, not that this Surry was from an alternate dimension, but because of his lowly status on this other world. " I am still known as Fetch the waterboy in your world. How pathetic!" he spat angrily.

Franksada held out his hand, " Look Reaver , your doppelganger Fetch is big potatoes where he comes from. Surry was being charmingly evasive, but I did my own research and found out quite a lot. On their world he stopped the Gnoll horde, rescued McDunnalds, defeated Duke Ari, released a half dozen goddesses , sacked Frost haven, amongst other things. It's said he even has a pit fiend for a familiar and the god of entropy as his wife. We're talking big league stuff."

Reaver fumed. "Why didn't you tell me this before! "

Franksada shrugged but Surry replied first. "Probably didn't want to embarrass you. "

Reaver wanted to slay these two fools but stayed his anger. His friend Franksada was a far superior swordsman than himself, and he just witnessed the mindboggling magic of …of his other dimensional daughter. "I do not need you two to berate me with wild tales of my other self. I don't care of his deeds. I saved all the knights that I could at the destruction of the Great Host, I carved myself an empire from the squabbling cities, I built my fortune by the skill of my blade. I am proud of what I've done and will not be shamed by the accomplishments of another man, even if it is some warped version of myself."

Franksada shook his head and sighed. "Listen Reaver. I was with you when you lead whatever knights that followed you to safety , and I am thankful for that. However, since then you've been living off your laurels, playing the safe route. I consider you my friend, but I must tell you I've seen you squander so much of your potential. Your cautious methods might have let you survived all those battles and wars, but merely surviving isn't living. It seems everytime you were given a chance for glory you opted to let someone else attempt it and failed. I know in my heart you were meant for greater things than drinking about minor victories in your keep. Fame isn't the be all and end all of things, but you have the skill and talent to save the north…possibly the world. You have the gift to be a legend that people will praise and sing about. You have the talent that could get your best buddy laid just by mentioning your name, but you are too afraid to use it."

Surry chuckled at Franksada but nodded in agreement. "I am sorry for any casualties you incurred by this Gnoll attack, but I must be going. It was good seeing you again Franksada, maybe we can share a drink next time you're in Sigil or Axis. "She smiled before vanishing in a shower of motes. Reaver closed his eyes and attempted to summon forth her memory. For an elf, or more accurately half elf, she was not that remarkable looking, but the knowledge she was his daughter in another world warmed his heart. He was truthful when he said he wasn't jealous of his other self's accomplishments, but the knowledge that Fetch had a child and he didn't made him oddly envious of his doppelganger.

Reaver collapsed into his chair and stared into the fire. "Did I really squander my life Franksada? Did I waste my youth by avoiding conflict and seeking the easy path ?"

His old friend remained silent for what seemed like minutes. "Few are given an opportunity to glance at what might have been. It's both a gift and a curse. It doesn't matter if people scoff at your deeds, in the end the only person that you have to answer to is yourself," waxed the old knight. "Wow…I was like …deep there. I should get a philosophy degree or something, " added Franksada with a chuckle.

Reaver thought over his words and looked deep within himself. Franksada was right, he had taken the easy road all his life. He should have made a stand when those brigands attempted to kidnap the Innkeeper's son. He should have never spurned that bard that made his soul sing. He should have fought with the host till the bitter end. All these things shaped the mold of his life, and the long spiral down afterwards. Instead of battling the gnolls actively his mercenaries did nothing but assist the petty rivalries of the city states that ensured destruction of the north. The times he battled the real enemy actually made a difference in the world, but they were few and far between. He was given the opportunity on many occasions to lead the fight against the gnolls but let a less competent and able general to take charge. The weight of his life crushed him as he sat on his chair.

Only the memory of the smile of the half elf named Surry broke the darkness around him. She wasn't his real daughter, and even if she was, he considered her a foul mouthed shrew of the first caliber. Despite this the thought that there existed a possibility that he could father a child warmed him. That would of course be impossible now, his own world was falling apart, starting with his friend's hold.

Warlord Reaver dug into his pocket and retrieved Franksada's resignation letter and ripped it to shreds. " I reject your resignation. Prepare the War Ravens for battle. I'll need every man I can get to break the siege on Ymir's Thaig! "

Franksada pumped his aged fist into the air. " Alright! That's the spirit! Three cheers for snotty flat chested alternate dimensional daughters !"


	2. Chapter 2

Martinez tried to frown, but his teeth were clattering too much for him to make that facial expression. The thin dark haired man was dressed head to toe in heavy furs and garments but it did nothing against the Grommish winter. It was bitterly cold, and he cursed himself for accepting the contract. He looked at his other companions and two out of three also seemed to share his sentiments.

"Why are we out here in the middle of nowhere again? ", Martinez asked as he shivered in the wind. The duelist was exaggerating in both points, he not only knew what they were doing but they were only a scant ten miles outside of Grom City. It didn't matter though, he felt the need to talk to keep his mind occupied away from the cold.

"Because Warlord Reaver is known to pay top coin. He's even paying 500 gold for this interview, " noted the large Raoul. The half giant looked comical in his stitched together parka, made of furs and what appeared to be blankets. Normal clothes would not fit the man, so the tailor had to stitch several garments together to accommodate him. Though he looked less stylish than his employer Martinez, the half giant seemed less affected by the chilling weather around them.

"Brrrrrr…..Don't count your money till it's firmly in your hand, "warned Sammy in a deep voice, the young tom boy apprentice Martinez had recently acquired off the streets. Saved was a better word, since Martinez found her being pursued by a shape changing yellow striped tiger demon at the time. She was barely thirteen and a street urchin when she was rescued, but she was tall enough to use a spear properly. The olive skinned girls innocent appearance and sparkling smile made her offer of apprenticeship hard to refuse, but more importantly she was curiously warded from most magic detection spells. Both Martinez and Sammy both didn't know how this ability was acquired, but the duelist knew it was a handy trait to have, especially in his dangerous line of work.

"Wise words girl…and speaking of wise. The rest of you should be silent till we reach our destination. Your chatter just waste your energy in this weather, "ordered Sir Rollo. Of the four of them, the old knight seemed immune to the cold. He just marched in his oversized plate armor ignoring the snow and winds around him. It was said he grew up in the gnoll infested north and was acclimated to the Grommish weather. Martinz and Raoul were from the southern merchant kingdom of Darokin, while Sammy's birthplace was unknown. Martinez guessed she was from a tropical island somewhere, due to the rich olive color of her skin.

Martinez fumed at being ordered around by one his employees, but his mood turned for the better when he saw the dark silhouette of the large building ahead of them.

"Grom Sanitarium…pick ups use west entrance…drop offs use east entrance", the sign in front of it said.

The four demon hunters shifted uncomfortably before the building. They expected sounds of maniacal laughter or tortured screams from the large building but they only heard the howl of the winter winds around them.

"A hell of a place for a job interview, "scowled Martinez as he finally managed to shift the muscles on his face.

* * *

"So to join your ranks, you want us to fight a demon…to the death? ", chuckled Martinez. The duelist wasn't offended or shocked at the offer, but was just curious at the thought processes of Warlord Reaver's liaison.

"Simply defeating it will be sufficient…will that be a problem? That is why you are being compensated for this interview, my employer believes in payment for services rendered, "replied Captain Darwen curtly. The grey haired elf was dressed in the black and red tabard of the War Ravens. She had flawless pale skin, and the only thing marring her serene elven face was a black eye patch covering her left eye. No doubt a battle injury from one of the War Raven's many campaigns. She had a military styled page cut hair style, and a thin athletic physique. Martinez might have mistaken her for a man, except he heard one of the priests refer to her as Lady Darwen. Martinez chuckled at the foul luck to be an elf male and having to court such questionable androgynous looking women.

Martinez stared around at their surroundings. The rest of the Sanitarium had been relatively sterile and even peaceful, but currently they were in some large dark dining hall, with a great domed roof held up by four towering pillars. An amazing feat of engineering wasted on crazy people, thought Martinez. The tables had been cleared, and the duelist thought the area looked more like an arena than a cafeteria.

"So is this the gig? Do we have to hunt this demon down or something? Is it haunting this nut house? Will we be timed?", asked Martinez.

Raoul shook his head before Captain Darwen could answer. The half giant sniffed the air again and pointed slightly with his chin at a middle age priest/physician followed by two robed figures. Martinez could tell right away by the way they were walking that the pair were women, and even though the robes they wore were heavy like his own winter clothing, he caught a hint of a seductive saunter in both their gaits.

"I detect one powerful evil presence, "whispered Sir Rollo cautiously. Martinez nodded and was glad he had hired the dispossessed knight. While he could catch the scent of demons, and was highly trained in their habits and behaviors, the ancient knight was a paladin, and therefore could literally see and identify evil auras. Even Raoul's superior demon smelling nose, could not determine the relative power of a demon accurately.

Martinez caught sight of Captain Darwen as she raised an eyebrow at the demon hunters' chatter. The duelist knew that she was impressed with his employee's skills.

"Captain Darwen, it is so good to see you after so long. ", commented the middle age priest. The man then turned to Martinez and bowed. "A pleasure to meet you , I am Father Wayland . I know this is but a test, however I must protest the use of violence in my mother's sanitarium. " he said with a worried look to the elf.

"May I remind you of the debts your illustrious little institution has accumulated. You should be happy my lord wishes to absolve some of your loans for this simple favor, "stated the elf calmly.

Martinez ignored the exchange and focused on the two robed figures in the background. He bowed to them cautiously. "Martinez and com…", he began but was interrupted.

"There is no times for pleasantries ", commanded the grey haired elf. " I am here simply because Warlord Reaver requires demon hunters. "

"And so you shall have them. As soon as you pay my companions and I , my reasonable retainer, " blurted out Martinez interrupting the annoyed Captain in return. The duelist noted the lead robed woman shifted uncomfortably at the mention of Warlord Reaver.

"My employer's wealth and credit is well known, " stated Darwen as she looked at the duelist with an icy glaze . Martinez tipped his head in apology before she continued her speech. "As I was saying Warlord Reaver is undertaking a very dangerous campaign against the gnoll host. The gnoll advances have been kept in check for the last few decades but recently their direction has been refocused. My scouts say they have either concluded their war against the elementals to the north, or more likely they wish to secure their southern borders before renewing their attack in the north. Regardless of the reason of their latest assault, we have heard reports of tens of thousands if not hundreds of thousands of gnolls on the move. Warlord Reaver believes successful use of defensive fortifications, the weather, and relentless sallies against the enemies will break their spirit regardless of their number, but we require assistance to do this."

"The gnoll's demon masters are too much for the mighty War Ravens to handle, " smirked Martinez.

Darwen looked at the duelist with derision but continued her tale. " Yes, the enemy's demons have always been their trump card. We can match and even exceed their line troops and even their dretch and rutterkin hordes, but the large numbers of powerful demons that support the gnolls cannot be ignored. "

Martinez waved away her comment dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, I got it. The big bad War Ravens , toughest mercenaries on the continent, are scared of a bunch of illegal immigrants from the lower planes. You want test if our reputation is up to snuff before you deploy us on the battlefield. Don't worry , my crew and I are up to whatever little test you have. "

The grey haired elf smiled at his comprehension. "Excellent. Let us begin."

Martinez was ready and flicked his wrist in response. Like a magician he produced a rapier and a parrying dagger seemingly from mid-air. Sammy gripped her spear in earnest, while the ancient Sir Rollo drew his sword and unslung his shield with a practiced motion , that was both efficient and effective. The half giant Raoul was unarmed, but had an oversized broadsword at his side.

"Wait ! ", declared Father Wayland as he looked nervously at the demon hunters. " I've changed my mind. Whatever debts we owe, is not worth violence in the hospital my mother built. I cannot let any of my wards come to harm. "

Captain Darwen shook her head and was about to argue with the priest, but one of the robed figures held her hand up. "It's fine. I cannot keep Hush here forever. Either the tides of war will wash over our refuge or the greed of moneylenders will bring it down. "

Father Wayland sighed. " I am sorry. I will not bear witness to this. Please do not hurt her, " he pleaded to Martinez as he walked dejectedly out of the room.

Captain Darwen watched him leave then smiled slightly at the remaining occupants of the room. "If we have no more objections, shall we begin? "

* * *

Martinez hopped away from the winged hellion's dive. The duelist saw that the creature's claws narrowly missed him by inches, even as he tumbled and rolled to safety. The winged beast slashed again at him, but Sir Rollo stepped in and blocked with his shield in time. The creature screeched a high pitched scream at the paladin before taking flight once again, avoiding any organized counter attack from the demon hunters.

Martinez noted their opponent was not a variety of evil outsider he had encountered before. It was slightly above average height for a human and had a hard lean physique. It's hair was light blue and it sported two long twisted horns from its head. It had the expected fangs, claws, and even tail of a demon, but it sported not one but two sets of large bat wings. It had a very comely face but not the unearthly beauty commonly associated with a succubus or even an erinyes. Besides its appearance, the duelist noted it was very strong, and an excellent flier. Martinez guessed it was a half breed of some sort, possibly an alu demon, a cambion, or even a half fiend of some sort.

"It's in the rafters! ", shouted Raoul. Though he was unarmed before, he summoned a staff of glowing blue energy to battle this creature. The half giant could see in the dark and saw that the creature vanish from view as it flew into the high domed ceiling of the abandoned dining hall.

Martinez stabbed his rapier into a nearby table , and retrieved his hidden arbalest stock. With a switch two long arms snapped into place, and a bolt slid at the ready. The duelist scanned for their prey but could not see it, even with his acute senses.

"Come out hell spawn. I have a big fat contract waiting for me after I finish with you , " he yelled into the relatively empty hall.

"Do not call her hell spawn. She has a name, its Hush, "stated the remaining robed figure. Martinez noted that there was nothing remarkable about her, at least from a demon hunter's stand point. She was very soft spoken with an almost musical voice. He could not see her face , but he caught a glimpse of her golden skin . He guessed she was not a native of the north and pegged her southern nationality as either Thyatian or Irendian.

Martinez nodded at the woman and then refocused on the hiding creature above him. He chuckled at the creature's 'name' , seemingly to no in particular but wanted to get another response from the robed woman. He guessed she was its handler or something to that effect. "Screecher or Screamy would be a better name. Which reminds me , I am at a disadvantage my dear lady , since I do not know yours."

The robed woman nodded but remained silent. Captain Darwen chuckled lightly at the duelist. " Father Wayland told me that she is called Dancer by the staff, and she is this creature's adoptive mother. Hush's real mother was an insane tiefling priestess admitted to the Sanitarium over a century ago, but died during child birth. I am guessing the father was some sort of demon, which explains Hush's apparent power and heritage. Dancer here was a fellow patient at the time and she took in this fiend after her mother died. She has been her handler ever since. Now that your curiosity is satisfied, I hope you can keep your attention on your foe. "

Martinez frowned. He not only heard but encountered this tale many times before. Some heartbroken woman loses her own child, only to adopt a demon one . It normally ended badly for all parties involved. He rather have found this information out himself than having it told to him though. It would have given him a chance to flirt and charm this mysterious robed insane woman. Though he didn't have any special vision or smell like some of his companions, the duelist prided himself on his ability to spot hot sexy women regardless of how much clothes they wear.

As Martinez's tangent plans were foiled, Sir Rollo's vision seemed to have focused on one of the main support pillars. Without signalling this, the group followed his stare and braced for an attack from that direction. The paladin's evil detecting ability was quite remarkable, and could not only detect the presence of evil, but upon lengthy concentration could pinpoint where it was hiding as well, even if it went invisible or was hiding from view.

As predicted, after a few tense seconds the creature broke its cover and dived at the group. Martinez saw it focused on Sammy, the weakest member of their group. The former urchin however was ready , and had her spear firmly planted and set for a charge from the demon. The duelist felt some pride at his apprentice, as she didn't run or even flinch from the sight of the charging monstrosity.

Before the creature could rend the young girl apart, the spear was swiveled slightly in position and pierced the creature's shoulder. The spear broke from the collision, and sent Sammy flying back from the impact. The spear did its job though and pierced its hide, but more importantly it slowed the creature's descent. Raoul swung his massive energy staff like a bat at the winged monster, striking it in the side and bringing it crashing to the ground. Sir Rollo stepped towards it, he wreathed his blade in holy flame and prepared to finish off the now prone monster but the creature swirled its long tail at him like a whip, avoiding his shield and slashing him in the face. The paladin cried out in pain as he stumbled back clutching his eyes. The creature took the opportunity to scramble into a defensive crouch.

It gave a low growl as a challenge at the demon hunters, but was silenced by the massive boot of the half giant. Raoul aimed at its side, where he struck it previously with its staff . The nimble creature caught sight of his attack and attempted to roll away, but was still clipped by the kick. The force of even a glancing blow by Raoul's foot sent the winged monster spinning back to the floor again. Sammy threw the remnants of her shattered spear at it, and to Martinez's surprise her aim was true and she struck it in the leg. Martinez saw a clear shot at the wounded beast and fired his arbalest, striking the monster in the shoulder blade. The duelist smiled as he saw one of the creature's upper wings suddenly go limp, and he readied another shot.

The winged clipped demoness shrank back hissing at its foes, instead of scurrying for cover though, the monster sprang at Raoul . The half giant slugged her with the butt of his staff, but the creature somehow twisted and avoided the blow. Martinez was impressed at its acrobatics even as the monster ripped and clawed the half giant's face like a wild animal. Sammy was stunned by the violence to one of her mentors, but Raoul took the blows in stride. The big warrior grasped at his foe and grabbed one of its arms, before spinning and tossing it at one of the room's great stone pillars. The hall shook from the creature's impact as it slumped to the ground.

Martinez saw Rollo was still recovering from the eye wound he had taken, and hoped the War Raven's contract covered medical expenses. Raoul slumped to one knee to recover from his loss of blood, and Sammy ran to his side to assist him. Martinez himself readied his crossbow again and covered the monster as he stalked towards it. He didn't recall if Captain Darwen wanted to see this creature slain, but as a demon hunter he considered it a part of his professional pride to not let any demon escape. Regardless if it was the Sanitarium's pet or mascot, he was resolved to put it down.

As the duelist closed in for the kill, the wounded demoness shouted something in a dark forbidden tongue. The blasphemous words formed from its mouth send a wave of terror through the room. Raoul and Sammy both fell retching from the wave of corruption that invaded their bodies, while Sir Rollo seemed to have been physically thrown away from it. Martinez saw that even Captain Darwen was overcome by the vile words spoken and the confident elf was soon wallowing on the ground in torment as well. Martinez felt the evil flow through him, but was for the most part unaffected. He wasn't sure if it was his own bleak world viewpoint, or more likely the protective stone of Almarth he kept at his side that saved him from the other's fate, but he took the opportunity and dashed towards his foe.

The duelist kicked the fiend directly in the face, and was pleased when he heard a satisfying crunch as his boot snapped one of its horns off. He aimed his crossbow at the dazed monster's head and glared menacingly into its eyes. He loved that part, he savored the moment before a demon's death as he exerted his will over its. It was a sort of poetic irony, that this creature of death and destruction, locked gazes with something even more badass than itself he thought to himself in amusement.

Martinez gazed into the creature's piercing blue eyes and expected to see fear or even anger , but was a bit taken back when he saw a deep regret on its face. It saw the game was over and was ready to accept its fate. Martinez knew it was his job to dispatch it, especially after witnessing a show of such terrifying power. Creatures that can evoke unholy or blasphemous words were just too dangerous to exist. He nodded once at the creature before pulling the trigger on his arbalest.

The duelist blinked in surprise as the robed woman appeared before his weapon, blocking his shot. A lump came to his throat, as he thought he shot her instead of the demon. To his knowledge she was just an innocent, a loony surrogate mother that adopted a half fiend daughter. Even if she was nuts, she didn't deserve to die like this.

"Please , I told Hush not to use that word. She not use to the violence she didn't mean it, " she pleaded softly as she tossed Martinez's crossbow bolt to the side. She then went to her beaten daughter's side and clutched her battered and bruised face in a motherly embrace. As she stroked the defeated demon's hair, her cowl fell aside; revealing a red haired woman, with a gentle oval face and sad but clear yellow eyes.

Martinez was taken aback by the sight. Not only because she seemingly caught his crossbow bolt with her bare hands, a feat that was difficult to accomplish even for monks, but of the woman's subtle beauty. Her face was unremarkable, and could even be described as plain, but there was something about this crazy woman's appearance that stayed the duelist's hand. He wasn't sure if it was her golden skin, her yellow eyes, or even her long red hair, but the demon hunter could not bring himself to harm this woman or kill the demon she was nursing.

"Enough….you have proven your skill , " croaked Captain Darwen as she recovered from the dark spell. Martinez nodded and noted his other companions slowly rising as well. Sammy tended to Sir Rollo, specifically his face and seemed distressed as she examined his eyes. Martinez grumbled as he guessed he was on the hook for expensive eye repairing spells.

"I apologize for this crass test, but it seems your reputation is well deserved, " the grey haired elf stated as she drank an unmarked vial she produced from her pack. Her strength returned visibly and she produced a small clinking bag which she threw at the duelist. Martinez deftly caught it and felt the firm weight of gold inside. " There's more where that came from. Report to Warlord Raven's war council immediately for your assignment , " she ordered. The captain gave Martinez a scroll, but was still slightly stunned from the spell she suffered, and stumbled out of the room in haste.

Martinez nodded at the retreating elf and turned his attention back to the red haired woman. To his astonishment the woman was leading the demon to his comrades. He wanted to shout a warning, half expecting the fiend to finish the job it started, but the demon appeared to be healing his comrades with its spells. Martinez watched in disbelief as it seem to exert extra energy and effort before Sir Rollo, and miraculously the knight recovered , blinking his eyes in surprise as well. He noted that the creature's face and body was still marred with cuts and bruises, and chose to heal his comrades before itself.

The red haired woman then lead the demon to Martinez and bowed her head. "I am sorry. Hush was told never to use those dark spells, but the heat of battle …clouded her judgement, " she said in a small soft voice. "Is there anything I can do …to make this right, " she asked nervously. The demon behind her held her head down and seemed truly shamed by her act. Martinez noted how quiet she was compared to a few minutes ago, and thought Hush might be an appropriate name for it after all.

Martinez smiled and graciously accepted her apology. "You can start by telling me your real name…it can't be just the Dancer, " he said with a grin as he attempted to flirt with her. Though he expressed his doubt, the duelist wouldn't mind to see the woman doing some private dancing later.

The red haired woman was taken by the request and seemed unsure of her response. Before she could reply, the demon flashed a toothy smile at the duelist and answered in her place. " My mother's name is Tyris, " it said in a gentle voice.


	3. Chapter 3

The wind howled outside the carriage and Frank felt the cold in his bones. Even though he appeared to be in his fifties, the knight felt every bit of his 130 years of age. Through the miracle of life extending elixirs and potions, Frank had prolonged his life by restoring his body's youth, but it did nothing to lighten his soul. Too many of his friends and family had died, and each comrade that passed away weighed heavily on him.

Frank was the last survivor of a trio of triplets. He missed his cocky brother Hank, and his fast talking brother who was also named Frank. They both died in battle over a century ago, but Frank could still hear their chatter and quips. Most of all he missed his younger brother Tank. Tank tried to imitate his older brothers Frank, Hank, and Frank by adopting their mannerisms and even appearance, but Frank saw something else special in him, a passion that he never had himself, the desire to do something besides locking swords on the battlefield. Not that Tank was bad with the blade, but the younger brother retired from the mercenary and adventuring life and settled down a life time ago. Something that Frank could never do. Unlike Frank, Tank started a family and eventually grew old with his wife. It seemed silly to Frank to settle down when the gnoll horde was on their doorstep, but that was the path Tank chose. The pair lived a long and happy life, but in the end , the pair died during a daring gnoll raid that struck deep into supposedly safe Grommish territory. Frank thought his brother's death would have drove him into a fury, but instead he found himself wishing he lead the life he did.

Frank wondered why he harbored this jealousy for his brother. He was a world renown swordsman, his exploits had been told countless times by bards, and he had sampled the most beautiful women in the world. Despite all his fame and wealth, the old knight felt terribly alone. He had a different mistress every month it seemed but they were empty relationships at best. He wondered if he should get a pet of some sort, maybe a pseudo dragon or a tamed sprite to talk to on his long treks. Frank thought it would be amusing to have a smart mouth side kick or something to keep him company, but he dismissed the thought as mere fancy when his carriage reached his destination.

"Two gold please, "stated the young driver as he opened the carriage doors and swiftly shoveled the snow blocking the knight.

Frank peered at the youth, and though he was bundled warmly, he caught a hint of orange on his skin. The knight wondered if the boy was from the southern island nation of Irendi, and if so how he ended up driving a carriage in Grom City. Frank considered asking, but he had much more important things on his mind. He held up ten golden crowns and let them slowly drop into the boys hands. "Stay here and wait for my return. I have no desire to wait for another carriage ", he commanded with a weary voice.

The orange skinned carriage driver nodded in compliance.

Frank surveyed the neighborhood and shook his head. It was an old street filled with dreary brothels. Not that Frank had a problem with whores and their places of business, but the war in the north made this entire area seem so depressing. In the old days, only the most beautiful and empty headed maidens would work in the red light districts, now with the flood of refugees from the failed campaign against the gnolls, the positions were worked by the poor, the desperate, and by those defeated souls that had given up all hope. Not exactly the cheerful place that invited people to seek the pleasures of soft company.

Frank surveyed the snow covered signs and then saw what he was looking for. The Red Blade, though its logo was more pink due to neglect. It was an old run down whore house with peeling paint, and some boarded up windows. Despite its derelict appearance, there was lights and inviting noise from within. Frank sighed and pushed the door open.

The knight was greeted by a mostly deserted bar room with a single large form slouched over a table. An old but still busty Madame saw the knight's arrival and clapped her hands. A half dozen young girls in partial states of dress swiftly filed into a line and presented themselves to Frank. Frank was impressed at the girls' collective enthusiasm, and despite his earlier cynicism he noted a pair of maidens that even caught his discerning eye. He was tempted to sample the flesh of these beauties but more pressing matters were at hand. He pushed his way past the women and proceeded to the mostly deserted bar room. The Madame was about to protest, but Frank swiftly silenced her with a skillfully flipped golden coin.

Frank proceeded to the middle of the room, where the large man he spotted earlier was sleeping on a table. He noted the large collection of beer and wine bottles scattered about him and caught the unmistakable stench of vomit.

"I would have thought you would occupy yourself with something besides drink in this fine establishment "chuckled Frank sarcastically.

The large warrior did not move, but did open one eye. Frank saw that it was green and slitted, and almost appeared reptilian in nature. "What do you want Hida Franksada? ", he hissed.

Frank held out his hands and waved them about while feigning fear . " I don't want anything from you my old friend, but Warlord Reaver does. "

The large warrior closed his eye and fell silent. After a few seconds the large man rose to his feet. While Frank was considered tall, this creature towered over him. He was roughly seven and a half feet tall, almost like an ogre but lacking in the brutish and unhygienic appearance of those giants. He had grey skin and yellow tusks, but still bore a distinct noble air about him.

"Good to see you Halvor," smiled Frank undeterred by his monstrous appearance. Frank had known the former Baron Halvor for a good part of half a century now. While Frank had maintained some semblance of his youth through alchemy, it was said that the exiled Baron of Veb, made pacts with dark masters for personal power. It did not come without a cost though, the most visible of which was the slow transformation into the monstrosity that he had become.

"What does Reaver want? ", questioned Halvor as he gnashed his oversized teeth.

Frank smiled, " He wants you to help out your old buddy Frank. I'll explain in a minute, but not here. Let's talk about the specifics in my carriage. "

Halvor looked at Frank with mistrust. "Carriage? Since when do War Ravens use carriages instead of horses? "

Frank sniffed at the perceived slight. Instead of firing back an insult, the knight simply grinned. " When there's five feet of snow, the carriage looks like a good idea. Now quit your complaining and follow me. ", he ordered. Halvor eyed the knight suspiciously and seemed hesitant to go. "Don't make me shame you into doing this by challenging your honor, "sighed Frank.

Halvor snarled , his yellow tusks seemingly grew as his anger rose. " My debt to Reaver was paid a long time ago. I owe him nothing ! "

Frank smiled. "He doesn't see it that way. He helped you slay the demonic gnoll warlord that razed your Barony, he expects more than a few paltry mercenary jobs on your part to settle that debt. Unless of course the honor of Veb died when the Barony was sacked, if that's the case you can crawl back into your bottle or whore or whatever it is that you find amusing here. ", sneered Frank. The old warrior seemed laid back and carefree with his insults, but knew he was walking a fine line. Halvor was faster and stronger than him, but he had his experience and more importantly his timing. His hand hovered near the hilt of his blade .

As expected the bestial baron flew into a rage and charged the knight. Halvor expected such a direct attack, and flashed his blade at the monster's throat. Halvor's sharp claws yearned for Frank's flesh but the gleaming blade at his neck gave him pause. Screams echoed in the bar from the panicked whores, but the two warriors remained still.

"Too slow. I'm too handsome and too fast, "smirked Frank. " Now be a good boy, and honor your debt to Warlord Reaver else I'll kill you right now."

Halvor growled and for a second it looked to Frank he would have to put him down, but instead the large warrior took a step back and slumped his head. " Do what you must, my people are gone, my land is destroyed, and even any semblance of my humanity is lost. "

Frank shrugged. "Hey you aren't the only guy who lost his people and land, as for your ..umm… appearance….I'm pretty sure I can set you up with some scribes that are half blind from writing crap down by candle light. Don't look down on scribes…they need luvin too, they might look mousy, but they have a lot of pent up energy. "

Halvor snarled and flashed his teeth. Frank couldn't tell if the beast warrior was about to attack again or was smiling. "Regardless of my appearance, I will still honor my word to Reaver. What does he require of me? Terrorizing some noble, retrieving some lost treasure, perhaps he wishes me to fight in the arena like before? "He growled.

Frank winked at the warrior and a wide shit eating grin grew on his face. "Oh…you're gonna love this. We're finally going to war Hal….war on the gnolls ! "

* * *

After securing his favorite right hand man, the brutal warrior Halvor, Frank set upon the next phase of his work, that is to ensure safe and smooth passage for the War Ravens. The old knight dangled some more coins to the curiously orange teamster, and booked passage to Fort Grom. Normally it was a four or five day trip if the roads were clear and the weather nice, but their orange drive managed to do it in two after a promise of a fat tip. Frank wasn't sure how the boy's horses managed to endure such weather and the exhaustive journey without going lame or simply dying, but Halvor muttered something about drugs being used on the horses or something.

Having reached Fort Grom , Frank proceeded to purchase supplies for the coming army , and more importantly lay out the mercenary company's terms. Proper grafts and subtle threats were issued to make sure Reaver's army would not be delayed or inconvenienced by the Fortress's commander. Frank's fearsome reputation as a duelist and swordsman were often enough to ensure compliance, but having Halvor as a backup made things that much easier for the old knight.

Having cowed the local militias into submission, Frank and Halvor proceeded into dangerous territory, the heart of the Shattered Mountains. Ever since the fall of Lower Lueders by the cult of Myleka and the rise of Pharaoh Dow Mow the main road through the mountains had been plagued by goblins, trolls, and worse…the hags. Trade between Northern and Central Grom was effectively paralyzed but caravans did manage to cross the mountains if certain precautions were met.

The goblins were easily enough handled. Though goblins were physically weak and disorganized, they did have a knack for setting lethal traps and ambushes. The diminutive cowardly humanoids could be kept at bay simply by the presence of force of arms or oddly enough a few large animals. Frank noted with amusement that if a creature reached a certain threshold size, goblins became terrified of them. He recalled a battle where he had slain twenty of the beasts, but the goblins were more scared of his horse, than himself.

Trolls were a different matter. As big and strong as ogres, yet possessing incredible regenerative powers, trolls were fierce opponents indeed. Their ability to recover from most wounds, made the green flat headed giants reckless and fearless in their attacks. The shattered mountains contained several large tribes of the brutes, and Frank knew that an attack from trolls was likely. The best guard against the monsters was simply vigilance and the mundane but expensive practice of carrying many lit torches. Trolls feared fire, and even though it was winter, Frank made the proper acquisitions to make sure the War Ravens were well supplied with it. Great quantities of torches, barrels of oil, and even Alchemist fire would be used to deter the feral giants.

Finally the most rare but probably the most feared threat in the Shattered Mountains were the hags. Ugly crones with the strength of a bear, and the cruelty of demons claimed the mountains as their own. Besides their formidable magical powers, they were known to dabble in poisons and to have some eldritch giant under their command. Many had tried to slay these evil beings, but most ended up dying instead. If he was younger, Frank would have enjoyed the challenge of these opponents, but Reaver had other plans. The Warlord had no patience to chase these hags through the mountains, and simply instructed Frank to pay them off. It was rare for an army to engage with such a defeatist plan, but a common practice amongst caravans. Many found it easier to appease the hags, with sacrifices and treasures then risk their wrath. It soon became more a matter of commerce dealing with these creatures than an actual hazard; more akin to taxes and tariffs than a monstrous raid.

Since Reaver would soon be moving an army through the pass, the payment for such a passage would be large. Besides the considerable sums he carried in his bag of holding, Frank bought a small flock of sheep and goats for the hags appeasement. The old knight had no patience herding them, and Halvor's monstrous appearance did nothing but panic and scatter them. After a while the carriage driver saw their plight, and offered to assist them, for a hefty fee of course. Despite his grim and often bloody profession Frank had no desire to bring the boy to harm, but seeing the fleeing scattering sheep he relented to his offer.

The small group , now consisting of the old knight, the savage warrior, the carriage driver , and the flock of goats and sheep then trekked deep into the mountains. Though the rest of Grom was still locked in a blizzard, the mountains were shielded by the brunt of the storm. The temperature however was still deathly cold, and Frank feared for not only his companions but his cargo of livestock. Frank grew up in the far far north. Before the gnolls invaded, he belonged to a small militant band of tribal warriors and traders known as the Order of the Crab. The old knight was well accustomed to these harsh climates. Halvor despite his size and fearsome appearance was seen to shiver uncontrollably. Frank enjoyed seeing his supposedly physically superior ally reduced to sneezing and teeth chattering. After a while the big warrior relented and wrapped a heavy blanket around himself, causing him to look like some comical large old woman, a fact that Frank delighted in pointing out repeatedly. The boy however seemed curiously unaffected by the cold. Frank noticed that he wasn't immune to the cold, but somehow raised the temperature around him. The sheep and goats noticed this immediately as well and huddled around him to stay warm. A convenient way to herd the little beasts thought the old knight.

After the greater portion of a day marching throw the snow, they finally reached the point where the offerings were to be made. Frank noted it was unremarkable plateaus save for a single carved log with some illegible script.

"Are you sure this is ..is…the pl..place? "chattered Halvor . Despite the heavy blanket the unforgiving cold began to wear the big warrior down again.

"Pretty sure. Oh..and if you guys spot a hot sexy babe skipping through the snow…DON'T FOLLOW HER! It's either a mountain mirage…or worse…a disguised hag. Trust me , the last thing you want is corning some hot young filly and finding out she's some hideous, twisted , crone with drooping wrinkled breasts that hasn't bathed for a decade. Some withered old bag with dry flaky dead skin , that's ready to drain the life outta you. "commented Frank.

The boy and the warrior stared at the old knight after his rant.

"What….errr is one of them behind me? " , asked the knight before carefully turning around to check.

Halvor shook his head. " N..N..No, it just sounds like you have …personal experience in t..t..this ", chattered the warrior.

Frank shrugged, " I've been an adventurer for over a century. I've had personal experience in almost everything. Just believe me , on this. The first rule of adventuring is , if you meet a pretty girl in a dungeon…and she's interested in you. Kill it! Preferably with fire , cuz its almost always a trap ."

"I wish I applied your rule to my ex-wife, Nayra ", grumbled the boy.

Frank raised an eyebrow. The boy did not appear old enough to marry let alone to unmarry. "Boy….how old are you anyways? ", he asked.

"His name is Z..Zax, " commented Halvor.

"Geeze…I've been carting you around for a week now, and you still don't know my name? ", huffed Zax.

"Err..Blame it on senility, "shrugged Frank as he looked for signs of the hags. There wasn't any but the old knight knew they were there. Waiting, watching , judging them.

After a few more minutes of quietly waiting and in Halvor's case shivering. Frank decided to break the silence. "Zax…tell me about your ex-wife. " The boy hesitated, but after flipping him another golden crown the boy began to talk.

"Nothing really to say about her. We met after Lower Lueders was overwhelmed by the Penguins from the north, the demons from the south, and the baboon creatures below the city. Some of the city fled west to McDunnalds, but I made the journey south to Grom City. This was before the hags terrorized the roads. She was a beautiful woman that lost everything when the city fell . Well, she needed my support, and I needed a friendly face and….you can imagine where that lead to. Well it seemed great at first, but then later I discovered she used magic to disguise her appearance. ", explained the boy.

"Was she fat? Covered in pimples? Cross-eyed? ", asked Frank intrigued by the story.

"No…no she was a tiefling. A deformed creature with blank white eyes and a beak like nose. " spat Zax . "I would have left her right there, but it was too late. She was with child, so I did the honorable thing and married her. We try to make it work, but we broke up after the child was older. I had to agree to an expensive divorce settlement though. Damn greedy Tieflings. "

Frank recalled a lady Nayra that worked for the Royal Court of Grom. The royal summoner or something like that, one of the greatest magicians in the land. The woman had a gorgeous knock out body, but curiously was always masked. The old knight dismissed any connection between her and Zax though.

Halvor looked at the boy curiously. "W..W..Wait a minute. What's wrong with Tieflings, and aren't you a T..T..Tiefling? "

Frank laughed, "No stupid, he's just orange. I thought you of all people can spot a tiefling. "

Zax bowed his head . "Yes I am a tiefling. Was it the small bone spurs on my arms that gave it away? ", he asked even though his arms were covered with heavy winter clothing.

Halvor shook his head and pointed to his nose. "I've smelled a slight b..b..brimstone scent on y..you."

Zax nodded. "Being a tiefling is nothing to be proud of. Besides being socially and monetarily challenged, many of us lie, cheat, commit banditry, and the worse ones fight for the gnolls. It's not like we have a hero like the mighty Zug to look up to and inspire us. People hate us for good reason, and I'm ashamed to admit, but many of us hate ourselves too. "

Frank laughed again and slapped the boy on the back. " Oh…that's defeatist talk. Look boy, I've killed many tieflings but don't let that put you off , I've killed plenty of humans too. I have nothing against you guys. I'm not sure if you guys need a great hero or something to inspire you to something greater. Like those goofball half elfs, or zug folk have. Honestly, that's one of the stupidest things I've heard, and trust me I've said a lot of stupid things. Regardless if you don't have a messiah or leader to follow, that shouldn't stop your own path to greatness. Everyone has some measure of greatness in them, everyone has the ability to become something greater than he already is. Who knows, maybe you will be a great hero someday, someone that liberates countries, slays great monsters, and brings balance to the world. Someone people, other than Tieflings, would look up to. "declared Frank, as both Zax and Halvor exchanged confused stares.

"Err yeah..right. I'll get right on that, "replied Zax in an unconvinced voice.

As the three talked, suddenly a distant cackle could be heard in the mountain air. Frank shuddered as the voice conjured the image of some old woman with missing teeth .

"Remember what I said. Do not trust your eyes. Do not fall for their wiles. It's all fake, all an illusion. " hissed the old knight.

The warrior and the carriage driver both nodded. Even though the cackle sounded distant, three beautiful women sauntered onto the plateau, seeming from thin air. The lead woman had blonde hair, and she was flanked by a brunette and a red head. All three were tall and striking in appearance; they had pale smooth skin, full curves, and perfect mesmerizing faces. Each wore a slip of white cloth , that barely hid their humility.

"Well…..hello ladies…..Halvor you better call for the guard…..cuz I think someone just stole my heart, " oozed Frank as he walked toward them. Zax gave their leader curious looks while Halvor began sniffing the air as if something besides these three women on the mountain did not seem right.

The women giggled at the old knight's comments. "I suspect you have business to conduct, but I will be happy to entertain you afterwards. With only my sisters to keep me company I get so lonely up here in these mountains," purred the blonde. The brunette and red hair both nodded eagerly in agreement and flashed coy but inviting smiles to Halvor and Zax respectively.

"Oh…now that sounds enticing doesn't it. I guess…wait…what was I up here for again….oh yeah. Warlord Reaver presents you with this flock of sheep and goats, as well as ten thousand crowns for safe passage for his armies, "declared the knight . While still locked in a mesmerizing gaze with the blonde beauty he produced a large chest from beneath his cloak which was hidden in his trusted bag of holding.

The red headed nymph approached the chest, and ripped the heavy lock off with her bare hands, revealing a treasure of golden ingots while the blonde kept her gaze locked on the knight and her face grew into a grin. "Your offering pleases us. Pleases us greatly, " said their leader while licking her lip slowly.

"Oh yeah….we're all gonna get lucky tonight," whispered the knight to his companions giving them as a thumbs up.

Halvor growled then drew his great axe. The women did not seem too concerned though , and collectively they continued smiling while edging closer to him.

"Before F..F..Frank concludes his business deal, might you explain the stink of gnoll I smell. Or better yet , let me explain this for you. Y..Y..Yeenoghu or one of his lackey's has already approached you with an offer to close the pass from any relief force from central G..G...Grom. Isn't that right? " demanded the bestial warrior.

Frank's love struck visage vanished at the mention of gnolls. "Wait…you bitches double dealing here? "

The women continued to smile, but as one their face's contorted to ones of anger. "You will never leave this mountain! ", they screeched in unison. The sheep and the goats scattered at their dreadful cries.

Frank's sword flashed like lightning and pierced the blonde's arm. The woman ignored the wound and lashed at him with her rapidly growing nails. The old knight easily saw the blow, but only barely managed to bring his shield up to block in time. Despite her frail appearance, the woman's slash battered the knight back, but Frank rolled with the attack and in one motion spun in almost a complete circle while walking forwards to slash again at the woman's side. The attack was a few extra steps more showy then it needed to be, but it placed the old knight at her unguarded side and he delivered another blow to the woman. Despite the two fresh wounds on her , the woman spun and shrieked once again at Frank, renewing her attack as if the blows meant nothing.

Halvor swept his great axe in a wide arc at the brunette and red head. The massive weapon , combined with his near supernatural strength smashed into the latter's ribs, sending her tumbling into the snow, while the former barely managed to duck the blow in time. The brunette then pounced on the big warrior, hoping to slip into his weapon's range but Halvor responded with a heavy boot to her gut. The big warrior's boot connected firmly into the woman, but she simply grinned as she continued her attack and tackled into him; sending the large warrior smashing into the totem before falling into the snow.

Frank caught a glimpse of Zax slowly backing away from the melee. The sides seemed evenly matched but it appeared the carriage driver wanted no part of this, not that Frank minded, since he would only get in the way. As Zax neared the edge of a plateau , a large dark shadow was cast on him. The tiefling boy turned and was confronted by a hideous fifteen foot tall white furred giant . Frank cringed at the sight of beast; it was an armored monster with hunched back, sharp fangs, and misshapen contorted muscles. The boy seemed paralyzed as the monster readied to rip his head off , but Frank was already on the move.

The knight swung his weapon in a wide arc at the blonde woman. The woman saw the relatively slow moving attack and gestured to catch the weapon, but it was merely a feint. The knight slipped past her with a quick side step and even kicked back once to her calf. The light but unexpected blow caused her to shift her weight to compensate her balance, but it gave Frank a few seconds to escape out of the range of her claws. After evading the blonde beauty, the knight dashed towards the tiefling. He managed to throw the boy to the side while blocking the giant's hammer like fist with his shield. Though he had fought giants many times in the past, the knight was unprepared for the force of the blow. Frank watched as his shield was split from the creature's attack, and felt something in his arm breaking. Sensing his predicament the old knight retreated out of its range.

The giant was not to be denied though. It pulled a massive ornate spear , seemingly from mid-air and threw it at the knight. Frank easily dodged the tree trunk sized weapon, and was ready to rejoin the fray , but suddenly felt a presence at his back. He dodged to the right, but still felt his armor and flesh tear from his side as the spear returned back to the giant's hand. Frank felt his life draining from him as he knew he was hurt bad, not as bad as if he dodged to the left he thought with a chuckle.

The knight ignored his injuries and adopted a defensive stance against his two foes. He spotted Halvor wrestling one of the women in the snow, and saw the one he struck earlier rise, despite the horrible wound to the ribs it had suffered. Frank knew their predicament was dire, but it did not deter him.

"A hag walks into a druid circle with her three daughters, "stated the knight loudly. The battle seemed to pause at the strength and conviction of his voice.

"The head druid asks, "Are they triplets?" "

"The hag says, "No, the oldest is ten, the middle one is eight and the youngest is seven. Why? Do you think they really look alike?" "

""No," replies the druid , "I just couldn't believe you got laid three times." ", laughed Frank.

The women were not amused at his jest. As one they screamed and their bodies warped. Gone were the comely women , and instead they were replaced with ugly long limbed crones, with wild feral hair, long dark claws, wearing ratty cloths. Ignoring Halvor, they charged the wounded knight in their anger.

Frank timed his blow carefully, and unleashed himself like a whirlwind when they closed. His blade caught the blonde across the face, while clipping the leg of the brunette, and striking the already exposed ribs of the red head. Two of the crones scattered from the unexpected attack, while the red head collapsed in a heap clutching its side in pain.

"Careful girls, there's plenty of Frank for all of you. ", quipped the knight with a wheeze even as his own injuries were catching up.

The giant roared a challenge at the knight, and reared up to throw its spear once again. As it released its blow, Halvor's mighty axe smashed into its back, spoiling the creature's aim. The axe rended armor and leathery flesh , causing the creature to spin to face its new foe. The giant was quick , but the bestial warrior was quicker as he hewed a deep wound into the creature's leg. The giant lost its balance and stumbled forwards, but Halvor did not relent. He battered the falling giant with the full weight of his body sending the creature tumbling off the plateau with a hideous scream.

Frank knew his battle was almost over, but was heartened to see the blonde hag missing an eye from his previous strike. The creature howled in pain , even as its sister covered for her.

"Oh…I know I was sexy, but I didn't know I caught your eye," joked the knight with renewed vigor.

The two hags screeched at him, but did not fall for his taunt a second time. Frank took advantage of their hesitation and slipped next to the gravely injured red headed hag. He slammed his blade into its neck, severing its head with a single swipe using the last reserves of his strength.

"Looks like she's fallen head over heels over me ", joked the knight once again.

The remaining hags' rage got the best of them as they rushed Frank once again. The knight was too weak to perform his spinning attack, and tried the best he could to parry with his blade. The red headed hag swatted his sword with her claws, and sank her teeth into his neck. The knight's heavy armored collar saved him from a fatal blow, but he still felt the teeth puncture through his plate and felt poison burn in his veins. He punched the hag once with his mailed fist, and felt some resistance drain, but he knew it was futile against her superior strength and vigor, especially when her sister would soon enter the fray.

Just as the blonde hag was about to join the struggle against the knight, Halvor appeared at her side, and swung his lethal axe once again. Even as he struggled against the brunette , Frank saw the blonde hag was either too focused on him, or perhaps her eye injury impaired her vision, to guard against the big warrior. The axe struck her like a sledge hammer between the shoulders and she fell lifeless to the ground.

The last hag saw that the tide of battle had turned. She grabbed the limp Frank like a rag doll and held him by the throat before Halvor.

"Leave my mountain. Else I will snap your leader's neck, "hissed the hag.

Halvor paused but Frank didn't. The old knight's movements were practiced and precise, despite his injuries and the poison in his blood. He seized his captor's arm and twisted it slightly. He then bent forwards with his captive arm, jutting his hip into his opponent to throw her off balance. Pulling downwards with his remaining strength against the hag, he caused her to flip forwards crashing onto her back. Halvor fell to his knees as the effort drained him to the core. He was too tweak to follow up the attack, but Halvor seized the opportunity and buried his axe into her head, literally splitting it into two.

Frank wheezed and gasped at the effort, but could not find the energy to make some clever comment.

Halvor threw him a healing draught which he barely caught and quaffed.

"You know Hal…there was a chance that the Hags might have accepted our offer over the gnolls you know, "chuckled the old knight weakly as the poison was purged from his system.

Halvor shrugged even as he cleaned his axe." N..Nice throw," he commented with still chattering teeth. "Is that some part of your C..C..Crab knight training or something?"

Frank nodded as the pair surveyed the carnage about them.

"Oh well…I always wanted to kill these witches and I guess we can keep the gold ", joked Frank. "Pity about the carriage driver though, I guess he won't get the chance to perform any great deeds after all. "


	4. Chapter 4

Sergeant Taylor was a veteran of many wars. After his hometown of Veb was overrun by gnolls, the soldier served many years in the Third Army in a prolonged series of skirmishes to defend the border town of Tornic. Afterwards, he was on the front line guarding the walls of Fort Karl, before that important strategic point was lost. He survived many bitter battles and clashes with the gnolls but his luck had finally run out. While serving in a light infantry detachment to harass the enemy advance, his unit was ambush and nearly wiped out. Sergeant Taylor fought to the end and took a dozen gnolls with him before he fell, but the courageous warrior was finally defeated and captured.

Taylor heard the rumors of how the gnolls treated their enemies. Arena fights, hyena baiting, and even sacrifices to their demonic god. Regardless of his eventual demise, the soldier vowed to face his end with the pride and staunch valor of a soldier of Grom.

Sergeant Taylor's bravery vanished when he discovered his grim fate. He was shoved face to face before the ravenous grey horde. The cackling gnolls delighted as they prodded their prisoner precariously over a pit. Scores of hunched back grey skin humanoids slavered and clawed at each other in an attempt to reach the petrified prisoner.

"No, no…no!", shouted the terrified soldier. Taylor turned in a futile attempt to flee, but his laughing captors jabbed him repeatedly with their long spears. The soldier ignored the wounds in an attempt to escape, but the force of the blows finally knocked him into the slavering monsters below.

* * *

Doresain walked regally through the horde. His tall thin frame, draped in the finest silks was a stark contrast to his gibbering minions. The Master of the White Kingdom walked tall and straight through his bent and warped subjects. They tore apart the soldier the gnolls had offered to them like mindless beasts, but cowered at the Ghoul King's passing. The ravenous undead looked nothing like their king but all bowed in acknowledgement of his domain over them.

Doresain reveled in his power as he passed through his servants, but the Ghoul King knew he was but a pawn in a greater game. As mighty and feared through the planes as he was, Doresain was a mere pawn to greater powers. In the beginning he was the loyal Vassal of the Prince of Undeath, but he was surrendered like mere property when the hordes of Yeenoghu invaded the dead plane of Thanatos. The great and mighty Ghoul King bartered as mere terms of a conditional surrender . Since then Doresain was the Herald of the Gnoll Prince sent to shatter the enemies wills .

Doresain didn't particularly mind his job. He loved spreading terror and ripping the souls out of mortals. Despite his civilized and cultured appearance, the Ghoul King was every bit as savage and barbaric as his minions. He enjoyed carrying out the tasks of his now sovereign lord Yeenoghu, it gave him opportunities to rampage and pillage on the Great Wheel that his own great, but limited power would not. However, it grated on the Ghoul King that he was a servant to a supposed higher power. He was a King not a servant, despite the ranks and privileges it granted.

In the past he and his ghouls were the shadowy vanguard of the gnoll invasions. They would strike and spread terror before the main gnoll infantry and cavalry smashed their demoralized foes. He was most often victorious in his tasks, but he did recall a particularly nasty defeat he suffered on a world very similar to this one. A band of knights in the northern realms of that world tracked and ambushed him in his lair; banishing him from that plane for a century. Doresain seethed at the loss but took comfort at the final dying breaths of the gnolls' recent offering.

As the Ghoul King watched his servants devour the last shreds of the soldier that was sacrificed, he felt a presence nearby. Doresain twirled around and seized a dark form with his long arms, snagging the shadowy creature by the throat.

"Ack…Lord…Yee…Yeenoghu….sends…sends word, " gasped the twilight demon.

Doresain hesitated for a few seconds, enjoying the power he had over the shadow demon. He then relented and sighed, releasing the shadow messenger.

The creature coughed and hacked, unused to be physically manhandled. Such was the power of the Ghoul King that his grasp could even extend to nebulous creatures like the shadow demon.

"Speak ", uttered Doresain imperiously at the creature grovelling below him.

The shadow demon took a few seconds to compose its self, but it finally bowed with the proper subservience to the Ghoul King. "The Human's wills have not been broken as we thought. The one called Warlord Reaver has assembled an army and will attempt to reinforce the Dwarven Holds."

Doresain nodded. While he hated being a vassal, he relished the challenge before him. The one called Reaver often clashed with his Lord's forces in the past, but the conflicts were never decisive. Whether the man had a genius level tactical intuition or if he was a craven coward mattered not, the fact was that his forces always evaded the gnoll horde's killing stroke. It infuriated Yeenoghu, and his lord's frustration gave Doresain a small ounce of satisfaction. To slay this man when his lord could not was enough motivation for him.

* * *

Warlord Reaver surveyed his troops. After a long forced march they had finally cleared the Shattered Mountains and were busy setting up their nightly fortifications. Overall he thought the march had gone better than expected. The War Ravens had safely crossed the Shattered Mountains with only a few minor skirmishes with the goblins. Despite being locked in a blizzard, his mercenary company made excellent time; partially due to their iron discipline, but also due to the prodigious use of alchemical salts used to melt the snow.

His right hand man Hida Franksada was successful in negotiating with the hags that infested the mountains, the bag of crone heads that was left on a post during their march was proof of that. Though Reaver would have preferred a more diplomatic solution, Frank's swing first and ask questions later policy often worked as well.

His left hand 'man', the elf Captain Darwen had hired several bands of professional trouble shooters. Demon hunters, adventurers, bounty hunters, whatever you would like to call them, Reaver knew they would be needed for the coming campaign. In the past , the enemies elite demonic troops were what often tipped the tides of battle in their favor. It was popular belief that the abyss held a horde of infinite demons, but Reaver knew that most of them were not much better than his own troops. Demons however grew exponentially more powerful as you go up their hierarchy, and it was those members of the upper echelons that gave his mercenaries the most trouble.

From the reality warping gazellebrood , to the six armed marylips, to the fiery Ballsworgs, Reaver knew he would need help to keep them in check.

"Really now..Gazellebrood? Marylips? Ballsworgs? ", snickered a voice nearby.

Reaver whipped around in with his blade in hand. He only saw a steady stream of snow falling on the Slay plains, but his senses detected something close. An oddly familiar presence, the sound of light breath, and a slight displacement of snow were all he needed to find his foe. He flashed his blade towards where he thought the intruder was but at the last moment he stayed his hand.

"Hold on …careful!" yelped a tiny voice. A small muscular creature with bat like wings, and dozens of horns on his head and arms held up his arms in surrender. Reaver had not seen this creature for nearly a century but immediately knew who he was.

"Baalphzon, I thought you died when Lower Lueders was razed by the so called Avatar of Beauty, Cherry or something"scoffed Reaver as he sheathed his sword.

"Cerasum the Avatar of stolen Beauty, "corrected the imp. "Though Cherry is the Latin form of the name I believe. "

"Latin ? I speak many languages but I don't know that one. Oh never mind…What have you been doing all this time, and more importantly why have you returned, " growled the Warlord as he recalled their scant association. After the fall of McDunnalds and before the razing of Lower Lueders, Reaver made a dark pact with an imp. Normally only a wizard or sorcerer could establish such a bond with an underworld denizen, but the imp specifically sought out Reaver and offered him the deal. It promised insight and knowledge in exchange for a curse being broken in the future. Reaver was dubious but accepted the link due to the power it gave him, and for a while Baalphzon proved as useful as he claimed. However during the fall of Lower Lueders , he watched the imp ripped apart by a baboon headed Ballsworg demon.

"That's Balor demon, " corrected Baalphzon. " Oh..and if you have forgotten, we still share a familiar link, we can both read each others thoughts to some extent. "

Reaver sighed. Though the muscular imp could read his thoughts, the Warlord still had not mastered reading Baalphzon's.

"Why and how have you returned?" repeated Reaver again in a firmer tone.

Baalphzon bowed subserviently to the Warlord. "As you know my aspect was destroyed on this world. As a denizen of the lower planes, we do not have souls like mortals. We do not form into a petitioner to be judged in the afterlife when we perish but return to our native planar realms. There , we are either absorbed back into the plane, or if we are strong enough we reform slightly weaker than before, with the limitation we cannot return to the plane we were banished from for a hundred years. Though you do not believe it, I still maintain that I am a cursed pit fiend lord, a member of the infamous Dark Eight. Molded into the form of an imp not for my incompetence but because my superiors above me feared my rise to power. I formed the bond with you , in the belief that one day you will grow powerful enough to release me from this enchantment. "

Reaver waved dismissively at the imp's explanation. He had heard this before, and he still didn't believe it. The thought that this cat sized creature with the physical power of kobold or a goblin, being a mighty Pit Lord was laughable. "Yes…yes…I've heard this all before. So you reformed as an imp and returned ,I see."

Baalphzon shook his head. "Well yes….and no….As a creature with near deific power, several aspects of myself were scattered through the Great Wheel to seek a means to break my curse. Most of the aspects were destroyed, but…well it's hard to explain."

Reaver rolled his eyes. "Go on….I'm listening," he said. He didn't really believe the imp's tall tales, but he always found them amusing. He also found that occasionally they shed some sliver of insight .

Baalphzon smiled smugly. "Believe my tales or not, I share more than a sliver of insight. ", he boasted before continuing. " As I was saying, most of the aspects were destroyed, but there was one shard of me that survived and reclaimed my power. Though my power has returned, the political landscape in the Great Pit is unfavorable for my return, so I await on that world for more promising conditions to end my exile. I see the other aspects of myself as dreams, but they are still my eyes and ears. I heard from a close friend of mine that somehow you still survived in this plane, and I sent an aspect of myself to not only satisfy my amusement but assist you as per our agreement as well."

Reaver nodded and considered the Imp's story. Though his tale sounded impossible, especially to one not privy to the workings of magic and the planes, for some reason his words sounded plausible enough.

"I am your servant; I would not lie to my master. I seek only the privilege in making him stronger "cackled the imp. " I rather drag a strong soul to hell then a defeated one, "he added.

Reaver glared at the imp menacingly and reached for his blade.

"Hey..hey …I'm only joking," declared the imp while holding up his hands in innocence. "Besides…your soul is already claimed, " he added cryptically with a whisper.

Reaver raised an eyebrow at the suggestion. He did not recall making any other pacts with any outer planar creatures. Baalphzon was the only one, and he thought the deal was terminated after his death. He welcomed the imp's return though, as it gave him not only unparalleled scouting, but also rare lore and secrets of his demonic foes.

"Yes, I knew you would welcome my return. Surry owes me a 100 gold ", snickered the imp.

Reaver stopped and looked stunned. "Wait….Surry…If your crazy story is true, then that means you were released from her world ."

The imp nodded. "Correct. You are insightful as ever. I am good friends with our mutual friend, the crazy evoker archmage. "

Reaver lashed out at the imp. Only the fact his sword was in its scabbard and not in his hand enabled Baalphzon to dodge the sword blade. Reaver began hacking mindlessly all around him as he was consumed in a rage. The imp flew out of his range and watch the Warlord curse and shout for a few more seconds, before finally collapsing on his knee from the effort.

"Errr….I didn't think you hated Surry that much. My offer to assist you still stands, but if you're gonna go crazy like that I'll leave this plane, "stated Baalphzon cautiously.

Reaver shook his head as he calmed himself. "I have no grievance with the one called Surry. I am maddened by the fact the aspect of myself that still refers to himself as the Waterboy succeeded when I couldn't."

Though Reaver could sometimes hear Baalphzon's thoughts when the Imp wish so, he had not mastered projecting his thoughts to his familiar. Despite this lack of skill, he channeled his frustration and anger in his mind in the hopes the Imp was reading his thoughts and could understand his anger.

All his life, Reaver weighed the risks of actions. When he was a teenager, he strode out into the world after hedging his bets with all the equipment he could borrow and steal . When he was battling the Great Horde of Yeenoghu alongside with the Great Host of Knights, he lead his detachment to safety before they were all completely obliterated. Even when he was a successful mercenary captain, he strove for perfection on both the negotiation table and the battlefield. He never risked his men or his profits unnecessarily and always fought for the benefit of himself. He knew it wasn't the most heroic path to take, but he was certain it would be the most successful in the long run. He rather die being a forgotten veteran, than be remembered as a foolish hero that perished at a young age.

The thought that there was some alternate version of him that did the opposite of what he did, and was more successful at it grated on Reaver. Though he claimed to be making this last stand not only for the defense of his long time dwarven friend Ymir, but also to save Grom, the truth was he was only doing it to prove that he was as good or better than his other self. In his spare time he had already planned and detailed various strategies to defeat the gnolls. It was more a hobby or mental exercise for him, but Surry's and Frank's admission of his twin's exploits drove him into action. He knew his plans would work, and the coming battle would herald his name into legends. Though victory was not assured, the battle would be glorious and will erase the memory of his doppelganger from everyone's thoughts. Whether they lived in Grom, the planar city of Sigil or Axis, or even the alternate world that his double was from, people will fear the name of Reaver.

"Whoa…whoa…..your mind is pretty whacky. I'm turning that channel off, " said the imp as it shook his head. "Oh don't forget….you can't stand the fact that your twin is named after his ability to fetch water. Man…that would piss me off too, "cackled the imp.

Reaver considered retrieving his crossbow and shooting the taunting imp, but Baalphzon had already turned invisible at even the notion. The Warlord sighed and his tactical mind took over. "Tell me Baalphzon. Did the other me really slay Yeenoghu or just broke his army. In my estimations of the demon's power, I've concluded that it would be impossible to defeat him in hand to hand combat, even if he was ambushed. However , from my research , if his followers are broken and scattered, his power would diminish accordingly . "

Baalphzon seemed shock at Reaver's insight and slowly clapped. "Bravo, bravo. Though you still call Babau demons , Bubba demons, and refer to Mariliths as Marylips, your deductions are correct. If you break the gnoll horde, you snap Yeenoghu's link with them. Think of him as the Hulkster channelling all the energy from all the hulkamaniacs out there. "

"The what?" inquired Reaver.

"ERrr…nevermind. I would also like to add, that your alternate-self did not defeat the Demon Prince of Ghouls. He was slain by the greatest warrior of the realm, with the sacred demon slaying blade of the Azata…or eladrin if you're old school, " noted the imp.

Reaver smiled. Not at the fact he discovered how to defeat Yeenoghu, but he gleaned something his double could not accomplish. He wagered that this mar on his twin's reputation infuriated him, and knowing his twin's frustration gave Reaver a small ounce of satisfaction. To slay the Demon Lord of the Gnolls when his double could not was enough motivation for him.


	5. Chapter 5

Zax woke up in the snow with a frenzy of spitting and thrashing. The cold was all around him, and his extremities were numb.

The tiefling scanned the area and saw he was still in the mountains and surrounded by snow. He wasn't sure if he was at the bottom of a valley of on some ledge high up on a slope. Everything was white and disorientating.

"Blast! There goes my big tip ", grumbled Zax. The tiefling cursed his greed. It seemed too good to be true; a senile old man and his big ogre like henchmen, needing a ride around the countryside. He was raking in some mucho dinero ferrying these rich fools around in the snow, and thought he would make even more herding goats for them. His plan came crashing to an end when they got into a spat with some crazy mountain women and their ogress body guard. All Zax could recall was the old guy started stabbing things, and next thing you know he was on the water-slide end of an avalanche, tumbling down the snow covered peak.

Zax was shivering in the cold, but he quickly fixed that. He raised the temperature of his orange skin and felt the warmth return. He laughed bitterly at his somewhat minor racial power. All his life he had been ostracized and discriminated against for being a tiefling, a humanoid with a tiny trace of infernal or abyssal blood. The public often tormented him and singled him out because they thought he possessed some terrible evil power within. It was a big joke though, most tieflings could only create a patch of darkness that lasted a minute or two; Zax thought it was a useful ability if one wanted to run away. Zax on the other hand had the pitiable power to raise his skin temperature; not hot enough to ignite things from a distance but warm enough to keep drinks warm or to heat a carriage in winter. It seemed however, that his almost negligible power would come in useful now though.

Zax knew he had to get back to Fortress Grom if he was to catch up to that old guy and collect his payment, but for all intents and purposes he was currently lost. Everything looked the same where he was , and he saw no signs of civilization to guide him. He wondered if he should make a signal or perhaps strike out on his own to get back to the fort.

As Zax decided his course of action, he heard a rustle in the snow nearby.

Zax stopped. He though himself alone, but knew that was a foolish notion. Not only was he in the Shattered Mountains, an area known for tribes of vicious humanoids, but there were also those crazy women , and of course the very real possibility of wild hungry animals.

Zax quickly dug out his magical pack and rummage through it. He drew out his trusty Grom club and his leather jerkin which he quickly slipped on. They were both military issue, a remnant of his army service, and he kept them handy for both their defensive qualities and to also to prove his veteran rebate on his taxes.

Even with armor worn and weapon ready, the tiefling debated his next action. He could hide, but that would not advance his position to leave the mountain, or he could investigate. For all he knew, it was the old guy or his bodyguard, or perhaps the avalanche caught the attention of some snow patrol who were searching for survivors. After a few seconds of indecision, Zax decided to take a peek. He cautiously advanced to the noise, and to his disappointment it was none of the above.

Lying face up, half buried in the snow was a small short girl wearing bits and pieces of white ornate armor. She had pale skin, and white almost bluish hair. She was still breathing and oddly didn't seem to be shivering from the cold , but a nasty bruise on her head had rendered her unconscious. He at first thought it was one of those crazy women that had attacked his group, but besides the ogress , he only remembered a blonde, brunette and a red head. He didn't recall any albinos. Also those women were quite tall and voluptuous; this girl was flat like a board. Zax guessed she was maybe fourteen or fifteen years of age, and wondered if she was a servant of those women, or perhaps just an unlucky person caught in the avalanche. From what the old guy said, he remembered that those women were some type of bandits or something, and they extracted a toll or sacrifice to those that traveled through the Shattered mountains. Zax made the journey through the mountains once before, it was right before Lower Lueders fell to the demons, but the caravan master handled all such bribes and shakedowns from the denizens that lived there.

Zax looked at the girl, and sighed. He couldn't leave her in the snow like this. Despite his race's bad reputation, Zax , and many others like him, had some compassion . He reached down and dug the girl out and hefted her out of the snow. She was extremely heavy, and though Zax was well use to heavy loads from his work as a carriage driver, the tiefling struggled to carry her. After a few unproductive minutes of dragging the heavy girl he decided to lighten the load and cut her armor away. It looked odd and somewhat familiar, but Zax shrugged and simply threw it into his magical pack. He also spotted a strange bladed staff nearby and threw it in his pack as well. Perhaps he could get some cash for them and recoup some of his losses.

Having cut away the extra weight, Zax saw she was wearing plain white wraps beneath her armor to hide her modesty. He then placed the girl over her shoulders on top of a cloak and slowly began walking down the mountain. It wasn't easy at first but the carriage driver managed to make it one step at a time down the slope, even with the winds and snow rising up again the tiefling trudged on carrying the girl.

* * *

"Our skirmishers have turned their left flank!" reported Captain Gammon, a black scaled humanoid in chain mail.

Duke Ari grinned wolfishly as he sat atop his massive war mammoth. The muscular fiendish lord cast his gaze at the chaotic battle and nodded. He spread his massive bat like wings and flapped them once to show his approval. His master had warned the fiendish general that Warlord Reaver would march his army through his lands and was ordered to harass the mercenaries at every opportunity. Ari wasn't sure how the Warlord managed to get through the shattered mountains, but his own forces were waiting for them as they left.

Duke Ari had expected stiff resistance, since Grommers were the master of winter warfare, but he thought his own hellish legion would be more than sufficient to rout them. Companies of nightmare riding Narzugon , packs of hellhounds, and of course his loyal horde of loyal tieflings. It was strange that his assortment of outcasts and exiles from Baator would work with their eternal enemies the demons, but such was the life of an multidimensional mercenary.

Though several of his lieutenants and commanders had mysteriously met grizzly ends at the start of hostilities, news from his snake blooded Captain stoked Ari's bloodlust.

"We'll exploit the break in their ranks now! Send the Narzugon into the breach, followed by the tiefling regulars," roared the fiendish lord.

The fiendish war mammoth bellowed in approval.

"Sir, Warlord Reaver has been known to set elaborate traps. We should proceed with caution," warned Captain Gammon as he took a precautionary step back from the Duke and his mammoth.

Duke Ari scoffed at Gammon. "Victory belongs to those that seize it!" he declared. " We'll show the world that Warlord Reaver's vaunted reputation is overinflated just like his ego. We'll take this opportunity to crush his mercenary army into oblivion!"

Gammon nodded and signaled the skirmishers, the heavy devil cavalry, and the tiefling infantry to rush and exploit the breach. The black scaled Captain watched from afar as Ari's legion poured into the enemy's ranks.

From Duke Ari's vantage point, the battle looked like it would be over in one fell swoop, but the enemy held firm and even closed ranks around the Legion's offensive.

Gammon then watched in horror as several of the nightmare's attempted to take to the air to escape, but they were taken swiftly down by volleys of ballista and crossbow fire. The black scaled Captain shook his head and knew the battle was lost. The legion was defeated but not destroyed, they would have to retreat and regrou…..

*STOMP*

Duke Ari's mammoth scraped it's huge foot onto the hard cold tundra, wiping the bits and pieces of dark scaled viscera from it.

"That incompetent Gammon has lost us this battle," declared Duke Ari. " We shall retreat , regroup , and replenish our ranks!"

* * *

Zax whistled happily. Not only had he found a cave to weather out the storm outside, but it was also laden full of treasure. He lowered the albino girl he rescued onto some furs he found and quickly began cataloging the loot. The tiefling loved gold, and admitted that was one of the things that drove him in his life. Life was hard for a tiefling, but gold made it a bit easier. His first thought was that this must have been the lair of those crazy women he met earlier, so he kept a wary eye on the cave entrance as he filled his magical pack full of loot.

All thoughts of that old guy Frank and his bruiser bodyguard ripping him off by not paying him vanished, as the tiefling greedily loaded up the loot. Most of it was Grommish coins, but he saw trade bars and ingots from the fallen Northern Kingdoms and the Western Freeholds as well. Zax guessed the women made quite the living in charging tolls. Though Zax was not a thief, he rationalized that it was ok to steal from robbers. It was just payback after all.

While Zax picked out the choicest treasures, he spotted a particularly beautiful and sparkling sword. It was in a long, silver and white scabbard. Its pommel was wrapped in silvery, most likely mithral thread and a glittering white gem adorned its pommel. The sheath was decorated in a leaf and unicorn motif, and it appeared to be constructed of the finest leather , silver, and diamond; big bucks for sure thought the tiefling. As a reserve soldier in the Grom Army, Zax was trained in the club and sling, but picked up a little of the use of the rapier as well. He didn't care to use the weapon, but thought it might bring at least ten thousand gold on the open market, even more if it proved to be magical.

As soon as the tiefling touched the hilt, the blade glowed softly and amazingly spoke to him. "I am Galatea, the scourge of the Abyss, one of the greatest swords ever forged! The merest touch of my edge can decapitate a foe. Demons scatter at my presence. Empires are built or crushed at my bidding! "Declared the weapon in a echoing feminine voice.

Zax recoiled, and wondered if his tiny trace of demon blood would set off the blade into a head cutting frenzy. He heard tales of magical weapons with wills of their own, and most of them ended badly for the blade's owner.

"Though you are considered an evil outsider, my wrath is reserved for those that truly deserve it, " declared the sword.

Zax looked puzzled. " You…you can read my mind?"

"Indeed I can. I can freely communicate to most through telepathy, save those that have the power of demigods or greater. I congratulate you for finding me in the hag's lair, but I must warn you, you have unwittingly triggered a magical alarm. I suspect that the hags shall return soon if they are nearby," explained the blade.

Zax panicked at the mention of the hags. He suspected that those women that attacked the old guy and his bodyguard earlier were the creatures in question, and had no intention of facing them. He had no idea of how powerful they were, but they did act kind of crazy, and Zax had no intention of getting into a scrap with three crazy bitches.

The storm still raged outside but Zax knew he had to brave it to escape. He took a last look at the treasure he didn't manage to pack into his magical bag, and hefted the half naked girl over his shoulder once again. "Thanks for the warning…errr Gally, but I have to get out of here with Whitey here before those hags return, " he explained as he bowed to the magical blade.

The sword glowed brightly stunning Zax for a second. "Though your mind is full of greed, I applaud the fact you wish to rescue that giant girl. I only allow those of pure hearts and brave souls to wield me, but I shall assist you in your endeavor," declared the blade. " Just hook my scabbard to your belt or back and I will impart some of my magic to you."

Zax thought the whole thing was fishy. First off this small girl looked nothing like a giant. Giants were huge and misshapen, the girl before him was small and looked kind of cute if one was into underage small breasted girls. Second of all, he heard that intelligent blades could impose their wills on their wielders, forcing them to do their bidding. He had no plans of being this weapon's unwitting minion. Though walking around with a magical blade was kind of cool, but the thought of a mere tiefling possessing a powerful magical blade was kind of ridiculous to him. He could hardly imagine what the bards would call such a tale, "The story of Zax" or something unimaginatively stupid like that most likely.

"There will be no "Story of Zax" or other such nonsense. I only wish our partnership to be temporary , at least until you find a worthy wielder for myself. In the meantime , for the sake of getting me out of here and rescuing your unconscious friend, I shall protect you and assist you the best I can, " declared the sword.

Zax sighed at the sword's ability to read his mind. He glanced at the small helpless girl, and the blizzard outside and agreed to its offer.

* * *

Gally's aid proved invaluable to the tiefling. It didn't provide him with super strength or anything like that, but he found it somehow bolstered his stamina. He marched all night through the snow without getting tired or even hungry, and soon found a path sheltered by the mountains from the snow. He didn't recognize the path, but decided it was man made and must have lead somewhere.

Zax followed the path for several days. It was a rather uneventful trek save once when he was ambushed by goblins. There were a dozen of them, and his first impulse was to toss the girl and run. Instead the blade sort of leaped into his arms, and after a blur of uncontrolled motion, he found himself standing atop three of the small humanoids minus their heads. Suffice to say the remaining goblins fled, and he wasn't bothered again.

Uninterrupted Zax eventually made his way out of the mountains, but he was far from Fort Grom. He recognized the land though, and he knew he had somehow crossed the Shattered mountains and was close to his old homeland of Lower Lueders.

Zax immediately feared for his life as thoughts of the demon hordes of the Lady Cerasum would soon find and capture him. The tales said that her demonic minions would bring the most handsome of prisoners to slake their dark mistress's lusts, while the rest would be torn apart and eaten. While Zax admitted he was pretty good looking for a tiefling, he knew he would end up as demon food if he was captured. A shame since being sacrificed to become a goddess's sex toy had some appeal to him.

"Uggh…your thoughts disgust me!" hissed the silvery blade.

Zax rolled his eyes as he forgot that Gally could read his mind. Since he agreed to carry the weapon, he found the blade had not said much, which suited the tiefling fine.

"It's Galatea..not Gally! Now we have crossed the mountains, you should find a place so Isula could rest," ordered the blade.

"Isuhoa? Oh that's right…you can probably read Izzy's, or whatever her name is, mind," noted Zax.

"Partially, her mind is a jumble of disconnected thoughts, violent impulses, and ancient memories. It seemed she was an unwilling servant of the hags, till you rescued her," explained the sword.

Zax raised a doubtful eyebrow. " Like a serving girl or something? ", he asked.

"Perhaps, maybe you should ask her yourself," stated the sword.

Zax thought the comment was odd, but then felt a rustling on his shoulders. He gently placed the small girl onto the ground and offered her some water.

The girl look frightened and confused, but Zax's charming smile seemed to put her at ease. She took accepted the water and bowed graciously at the tiefling, speaking in a tongue that he could not understand.

Zax was puzzled. He prided himself in knowing many languages, a helpful skill to have in the carriage business, but he could not understand hers. Besides Abyssal and most of the human dialects, he spoke a smattering of elvish, had a fair understanding of Halfling, and even knew some gnome and orcish. The language the girl named Izzy or something spoke to him though, was one he did not comprehend.

"She said thank you, …in jotan,"explained Gally, " That's giant by the way."

Gally then began speaking in the same weird language that the girl used, and Izzy listened intently.

The girl seemed a bit surprised at the talking sword, and smiled at Zax . The tiefling grinned as he noted the girl had sparkling blue eyes instead of pink eyes like most albinos. The small girl's smile also looked quite genuine and sincere. He still had doubts she was a giant, but whatever she was , she had at least a friendly smile. As he gazed at her he noted that she looked small and vulnerable in her shattered armor when he first met her, but with her wraps she looked absolutely powerless and defenseless.

As Zax was about to strike up further conversation with the young girl, Gally interrupted him with a warning. "Danger!" she hissed.

Zax immediately jumped to attention and saw a dozen ragged horsemen ride towards him. They were lightly armored and a few had long lances, what was most troubling was that they flew the banner of the fiendish overlord Duke Ari. The tiefling considered running, but he was too scared to flee. He knew Gally would defend him, but the last time she fought cowardly goblins, even if she chopped a few heads off he had doubts she could break their morale before they skewered him in return.

As the riders advanced towards Zax and Izzy, their leader stopped the band with an up raised hand. A particularly thin humanoid wearing crude ring mail and wielding a pitchfork, rode up to him. He had red skin, horns and a spaded tail and Zax rolled his eyes in disgust. He knew this creature was a tiefling, but was a bit offended that he was using a pitchfork of all things. All his life Zax had fought negative stereotypes of his people, and this creature was pretty much flaunting that image.

"Hold, I thought you guys were humans or something, but clearly you are a tiefling brother," declared the red skinned creature.

Zax breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that this creature thought he was one of them. In actuality he was one of them, but he didn't particularly like Duke Ari or his gnoll masters. While most tieflings would prefer a simple peaceful life, a fair segment of the population took up arms in anger and despair, and supported the invading armies. Zax knew life as a tiefling was hard, but the thought of joining the horde to rampage, pillage, and murder was too extreme for him.

"Err…down with humie!" shouted Zax , unsure of the proper greeting members of Duke Ari's legion exchanged.

The red skinned creature, which Zax decided to call Devilman nodded and repeated his chant, " Yes…down with humie!" he roared which the rest of his troop repeated.

Zax nodded and hoped they would leave him alone but Devilman had more questions for him. " Who are you two? " he asked directly.

Zax stared at the barely clothed Izzy, and saw she was glaring at Devilman with balled up fists. It looked like she was ready to attack them , no matter how suicidal it was for an unarmed girl wearing basically her underwear taking on a platoon of tiefling cavalry. Zax placed a hand on her shoulder and motioned for her to stand down and he turned to face Devilman.

"I am….Zahax…and this is my ….girlfriend Izzy. Err…we heard humies were in the area, and we wanted to …umm…hunt some down," lied Zax as he patted his blade. Though there was no generic appearance for tieflings, he hoped Izzy's albino appearance was enough to pass as a member of his fiendish race.

"Human huntin eh? Excellent ! As you know , Duke Ari's legion has been broken by Warlord Reaver. We're recruiting soldiers from Lower Lueders and rounding up any survivors we find," explained Devilman as he waved some soldiers forward.

Two riders rode up to Zax and Izzy. One was short and hairy with oversized claws, while the other looked like an avian hybrid woman , similar to his ex-wife. The pair offered a hand to Zax and Izzy and they reluctantly took them. They were pulled onto their horses then the group continued their ride.

"You two are part of Duke Ari's legion now!" declared Devilman.


	6. Chapter 6

As Captain Darwen made her way to outer edges of the war camp, she surveyed the area with her one good eye. The grey haired elf smiled at what she saw.

Even through the snow she spotted men celebrating and toasting their victory. Despite the initial high casualties taken, Warlord Reaver's plan had gone off flawlessly. They had collapsed their left flank during the skirmish with the Legion's light infantry, the Osyluth or bone devils. Then enveloped and trapped their overextended attack when the lure of an easy victory was dangled before Duke Ari. Hundreds of the Legion's Narzugon, the infamous devil riders, were caught and slaughtered. Not an easy task; besides their ability to throw bolts of flame, the enemy could fly and even plane shift to escape in most circumstances. Reaver had anticipated their foe however, and not only did he have his soldiers enchanted against fire , he also warded the area with dimensional anchors and had batteries of crossbowmen in the rear ranks positioned to harry any of the horsemen if they decided to take flight. With their nightmare mounts were dealt with, it was still a hard battle against the elite devil knights, but the War Ravens proved more than capable with blessed pikes and curious polearms called mancatchers at the ready.

After the sudden destruction of the Legion's cavalry, the bulk of the enemy infantry broke. While Ari's forces had elite specialized troops like their Narzugon cavalry, their Osyluth light infantry , and of course their Barbazu and Eryines shock troopers; the bulk of his army was an irregular collection of tiefling militia and conscripted brigands.

Captain Darwen held a vocal contempt for the misshapen demonic half breeds. Most people thought it was due to her pure racial stock, a rarity in Grom since most elven blood had been diluted into the obese half elves, but that was far from the case. Darwen held little notion about her perceived racial superiority, but instead though her people shunned and oppressed. Not an entirely false view since her people was initially refugees from the north when the dark knight Hildraxel destroyed the Frozen Kingdom of the Snow Elves, and then refugees again when the gnolls sacked their sanctuary at the Eagle lake Barony. Since then her people had been nomads, wanderers, and vagabonds; most of their rich culture and traditions lost through attrition from war and strife.

The grey haired elf saw many similarities between her own people and tieflings. While both were considered outcasts from society; the tieflings had no culture or traditions of their own to lose. They were the harsh product of the many victorious demon and devil invaders that had plagued the north for centuries. Not only had their ancestor's lands been conquered but their bloodlines had been corrupted as well. While many elves took up arms and joined the remaining human armies to battle their tormentors, the tieflings seemed more inclined to sign up with the enemy. Darwen could not forgive such a betrayal and any compassion she might have had for them was long lost during the various campaigns she had fought against them. The enemy treated them with contempt as well. They were often employed as light infantry or sacrificial soldiers by the enemy, and Duke Ari's legion was no exception.

As Darwen considered her thoughts about the enemy, she stopped as she noticed several troops of War Ravens had paraded some especially warped specimens of the tiefling race they had captured. One was overly hairy, another had a duck's beak, and the third had a very small misshapen head. She saw her soldiers were currently wagering which troop had caught the ugliest and most misshapen of the creatures. While she had no love of the enemy, their jeers and laughter at the enemy's deformities evoked an odd pity for the tieflings. While she would not hesitate to obliterate them on the battlefield with her magic, it didn't seem right to the elf to publicly display or humiliate anyone due to their appearance. Perhaps it was a similar ridicule or hazing she suffered as a child. Whatever the reason, she found herself pushing herself to the front of this spectacle.

"Okay, that's enough break it up," declared Darwen in a clear commanding voice.

The soldier's looked disappointed at her order and began to comply, but one soldier stepped forward and challenged her. " I don't see what the problem is, they're just a bunch of ugly looking cowards. Warlord Reaver wouldn't have a problem with this," he said loudly but not directly at the elf.

Darwen was not happy. She did not know his name, but recalled he was a recruit in the crossbowmen ranks. The elf Captain grabbed the taller soldier by the collar and yanked him down to her height. "Do you see Warlord Reaver here? "

"No…no Ma'am."

"Do you want to go get Reaver and tell him yourself about your little contest?"

"No…"

"Then do as you are told, else I'll place you and your entire unit on the front lines in the next battle ! You can see for yourself how cowardly these tieflings are," she shouted for all to hear. Darwen released the man , and noted that the threat she placed on his entire unit would be enough to punish the crossbowman from further insubordination. Already his fellows was jostling and pushing him for his misstep.

With that settled, the elf continued on to her current task, and reached the outer edges of the camp. The wooden palisade was constructed, and she noticed was reinforced by cyromancy, ice magic . She thought it ironic that it was magic originally created by the snow elves , but was mostly lost to her people and now practiced mainly by humans. Though Darwen was one of the more skilled weavers of enchantments amongst her people, she had never delved into the intricacies of ice magic, and concentrated on more utility and combat orientated spells .

While the mercenary army was drilled extensively on how and where to make camp and the defenses erected around it, the non-essential camp followers set up their tents outside the encampment. These camp followers risked their lives following Reaver's army through enemy territory and the War Ravens made it known that they could not guarantee their safety in case they were attacked. However, the lure of the deep pockets of the rich mercenaries was too great for them to resist. Unscrupulous merchants with gaudy trophies and war mementos to sell to the soldiers, alchemists which provided illicit drugs, make shift taverns that supplied extra rations and drink for hungry and thirsty mercenaries, and of course prostitutes that provide a night of soft company to the weary warriors, were the bulk of the camp followers.

Darwen of course, was not interested in any of the primary services that were normally found here. She instead was looking for one of her contractors that performed exceptionally well before and during the battle against Duke Ari's legion. She had hired many adventurers and assorted professionals to exterminate and deal with the foe's elite troops, but this band of demon hunters she personally hired performed well beyond expectations. The group killed more bearded devils than the Avengers of Linel, slain more legion devils than the Clerics of Koryis, and even destroyed more Narzugon than the Order of the Baboon.

Darwen would have scarcely believed this if she hadn't witnessed some of their destruction on the battle field. Though it was from afar, she watched them massacre a platoon of the legion devils with ease. A difficult task since the creature's had an uncanny ability to spread the wounds amongst themselves, thus requiring one to effectively kill all of them before any of them would drop. She recalled watching the group single one of the creatures out, and then unleashing devastating strikes onto it. The other devils attempted to assist their brethren but they were soon defeated by their own strength. Darwen thought it was a clever tactic and applauded their ingenuity.

While most of her contractors were allotted space inside the palisades this group chose to stay outside , amongst the camp followers. It seemed odd to sacrifice safety and comfort to stay with the rabble outside, but Darwen did recall their leader was a bit of a rogue. She could well imagine the man being eyeball deep in drugs and whores after the battle.

"Miss Captain Darwen? Can I help you?" asked a voice from one of the larger tents in the make shift camp when she approached.

Darwen smiled as she saw a young girl in chain mail and wielding a spear, guarding the tent and waving at her. She recalled her being one of demon hunters in question and strode up to her camp.

"You can address me as Captain Darwen. Where is your leader?" she asked, while already suspecting he was inside inebriated or worse, surrounded by whores.

Before she could answer, a massive man stepped outside of the tent. "That's alright Sammy . I got this," grumbled the large warrior. He then turned to Darwen and stood up straight and saluted. Not a sloven salute, but a proper crisp sign of respect.

"Captain Darwen, what can I do for you?", asked the half giant warrior.

"I seek your Lord. Where is Martinez?", she asked while stepping closer to the tent.

"Err…he's not here at the moment," replied the half giant. "He should be back in the morning. I can tell him that you are looking for him", he offered.

Darwen had no time for this. She was very busy and this was very important. She suspected he was inside the tent and could care less if she addressed him while he was drugged out of his mind, or in a comprising position with a lady of the night. Without the giant's permission, she easily slipped past him and entered the tent.

To the elf's surprise the scene inside was not what she expected.

The tent was tidy , and there was a table set up inside. Seated at the table was an old knight, and a young robed lady with a cowl over her head. Darwen could see cards on the table and saw that before she arrived, the half giant was simply engaged in a game of cards between the two.

"Hello ", said the young lady in a friendly voice.

"Err…Captain Darwen. What…what do we owe this pleasure?", stammered the knight.

Darwen ignored him and instead stared at the robed woman, she caught a glimpse of blue hair and piercing blue eyes. Suddenly Darwen realized who it was and drew her blade.

"Is …is that who I think it is? Is that the half demon from the Sanitarium! " asked Darwen while taking a defensive posture.

The half giant entered the camp and saw their secret was revealed. "Yes….her name is Hush by the way. Don't worry …she's harmless."

"Why is she here?" she demanded. Darwen then realized why they choose to camp outside, since if they camped inside the nature of their guest would be revealed. She did not fully trust this half fiend and wondered briefly if the demonstration she witnessed was staged. She dismissed the notion when she recalled she was the one that picked the location and the test, and doubted that Martinez could have arranged such a ruse. She decided if this creature intended ill will towards the War Ravens she probably would have attacked when they were trekking through the mountains, the time they were most vulnerable.

The old knight sighed. "Martinez took a …'liking' to her mother. He convinced her, that coming along with the army was safer than staying in Grom city. She came and brought our guest here along. ..Raoul is right you know, young Hush here is harmless."

Darwen looked at the pair suspiciously and admitted that it was a bizarre but plausible explanation. Grom City was being threatened by invasion, and the War Raven encampment was safe so long as Reaver's army was victorious. The big warrior simply shrugged and sat back in his chair. "If you really need to speak to the boss so bad, you can pull up a seat and play a round or two till he returns, " offered the half giant.

Darwen considered her options and the importance of her mission. She knew she had to talk to Martinez as soon as possible. She could wait outside till he returns or she could wait here. After a while the elf grudgingly accepted the offer and took a seat. "So where is your leader anyways?", she asked as the old knight began dealing cards.

"He's out in the woods , courting my mother," beamed the young woman.

* * *

Martinez cursed his daggers.

Out of his entire arsenal, they were his favorite weapons. He preferred them over his silver garrotte, his dashing attention attracting rapier, his beloved custom arbalest, even his silken embroidered knuckledusters. They were easy to conceal, fast and swift, and can be even thrown with deadly accuracy if the situation arises. Their slight drawback of being shorter, and having limited reach was easily compensated by the duelist's superior skill and speed, but today he found himself at a disastrous disadvantage.

The demoness lashed out at Martinez with a cutlass, a strike that was easily parried, but followed up with a slash from a saber. The duelist managed to bring his dagger to deflect it, and angle his blade so the force from the stronger demon did not shatter his arms. Though he stopped two of the demon's attacks, an overhead chop from a hand axe forced him to retract the dagger parrying the cutlass to block this unexpected strike. Doing so however allowed the cutlass to slip past his defenses and slice him deeply in the side.

Martinez felt the wound was deep, but did not pierce anything vital. The demoness reared up at her wounded opponent, revealing her terrible form, a lithe elven woman with six arms, with a massive serpent torso, before lunging at the duelist in full fury. Martinez considered dodging to the side or flipping backwards, but instead rolled forwards towards his foe. He saw an opening along his opponent's belly but opted not to strike. Though wounding his opponent would be satisfying he needed her to think he was anywhere but behind it, so he chose subterfuge over offense.

Having briefly escaped the creature's grasp, Martinez ducked behind a tree and remained out of sight. He glanced as he saw the fragments of his sundered rapier on the ground and knew he would soon follow.

"Come out worm! Do not think you can evade Talia, handmaiden of Myleka! "Shouted the demoness as she slashed wildly in search of the duelist.

Martinez rolled his eyes at the silly title even as quietly applied a dab of healing salve to his wound. The magical cream staunched the bleeding and partially mended the wound, but the duelist knew he was far from safe. He wasn't sure why a demon was in devil territory but recalled that they were close to the fallen city of Lower Lueders, home of some fell goddess. Regardless of the reasoning of why she was here, Talia the headmaid or whatever she called herself, was in control of the situation. He could have slipped away but he needed to buy Dancer more time to escape.

The duelist sighed, and thought how badly the situation had turned out. It started off so nicely. His band of demon hunters had performed marvelously for their new employer and was a key part of breaking Duke Ari's legion. Having secured this leg of the long march to the dwarven holds of Nazag Narg, Martinez hoped to take this opportunity to woo the pretty woman named Dancer by taking her to a secluded spot in the nearby woods. Martinez had often explored these tranquil woods before the gnolls pushed Grom south of the Shattered mountains, and he thought it a golden opportunity to impress the lovely Dancer with a few lovely spots he recalled. After all, it should be safe, since who would dare approach so close to Warlord Reaver's army?

Martinez stopped as he felt something wrong. Impossibly, the snow beneath his feet seemed to shift and the duelist's instincts took over; he back flipped once onto some overhanging branches, just as the dormant grass burst through their wintery prison. Before Martinez could contemplate what had happened, he felt a large presence approach him, so he jumped from his new vantage point to the next tree over.

"WORM! You cannot evade me forever! "Screeched Talia as she slashed at the branch where he stood seconds ago.

Martinez took the opportunity to hide into the shadows again, and noted the patch he was on was filled with grasping grass. The duelist blinked in disbelief as he realized his foe was some sort of demonic druid, an unheard of combination, but one that made his foe even more dangerous. Not only could the demoness best him in a physical confrontation, but she could control the environment and track him as well. Since their battle grounds was the forest, it would make escape near impossible.

Martinez sighed and wondered if his friends were right. After meeting with Dancer he convinced the lovely woman to accompany his retinue. He was surprised at his own impulsive act , wondering if he asked simply because he knew he would be rejected. For one thing she would not leave her half fiend adopted daughter, and for another she would be heading into a war zone. Dancer was hesitant at first, but he guessed the lure of an exotic adventure with a dashing duelist was too much for her to resist, and she unsurprisingly brought her daughter along.

Sir Rollo warned against such an action, spouting something about associating with fiends. A valid point, but Martinez claimed, rightly or wrongly, that Dancer seemed to be able to control her daughter Hush easily, and when not ordered to attack , the half fiend was quite calm and demure. Also, Hush was a remarkable healer, and proved her worth many times over during her short stay in his band. Even though he was gravely injured by her earlier and there was some paladin rule of some sort against their association, Sir Rollo quickly warmed up to the kind hearted half demon.

Young Sammy was also leery, though she was more concerned about the safety of Dancer and Hush when the demon hunters were not in camp. The young apprentice feared Hush's inhuman appearance could trigger a riot, but Martinez easily rectified that problem by making camp outside the main compound. Amongst the menagerie of vagabond camp followers, the pair easily blended in. Martinez thought his deception was clever, but noted he had to speak to Sammy to stop waving at everyone she recognized.

Raoul was more concerned about Martinez's mental health and vision. Simply calling him crazy was not enough for his friend. The half giant was the duelist's oldest and closest ally, but Martinez felt a bit insulted by his judgement. Raoul had taken him to the side and claimed that Dancer was not worth all the effort the duelist had put into her. Looking at her though, Martinez promptly disagreed. She was a tall , foreign looking woman, had a muscular athletic body with modest hips and breasts. Martinez guessed she was in her early 20s, a few years younger than himself. She moved gracefully though, her movements were similar to a dancer like her namesake. Her face was oval and her features seemed hardened and angular. She had piercing yellow eyes, and light brown almost golden skin. Her hair was a light reddish brown that was slightly longer then shoulder length. Martinez admitted she wasn't the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, but there was something alluring about her that he found completely mesmerizing.

Since joining Reaver's army he had very little time except to flirt with the young woman, but having earned this brief reprieve in battle, he hoped to take her to the woods to enjoy her charms more privately.

All went according to plan, till the six armed demoness attacked.

While Martinez knew the creature was a powerful demon called a Marilith, it was a creature he had never confronted before. He knew they were supposed to be the tacticians and generals of the Abyss, but this creature seemed to act more on impulse then reason. It had lashed out at them from ambush, and only the duelist's keen senses had saved them from a grizzly fate. He recalled yelling for Dancer to flee, and had hoped to occupy the demoness , thus buying her an opportunity to escape before he fled as well.

Having fought a few rounds against the creature, Martinez realized that his decision might have been his last. The creature was not to be trifled with , and he knew he was clearly overmatched considering the circumstances.

"Come out ! I will rip every tree in the forest if I have to ! " yelled the demon.

"That's an odd thing for a druid to say, "stated Martinez . His voice echoed through the woods as the duelist used his voice throwing skill to obscure his location.

"Druid? Druid? Hah! I am not a druid, I am the Treekeeper, guardian of the elves! "laughed Talia.

Martinez smirked at the outrageous statement and thought the demon was insane, delusional or most likely both. Regardless of the creature's mental health, the duelist heard the loud stucco sound of a large tree snapping nearby and he knew his lifespan was now measured in minutes.

Martinez knew that fleeing in the open was impossible against this creature, and his chance to remain hidden was growing smaller with each tree the monster destroyed. The duelist guessed his only chance was to fight, and he prayed he was up to the task. He normally operated with Raoul, the half giant would attract his foe's attention while he unleashed devastating backstabs against it. They were a lethal duo that could overcome any foe, but sadly his friend was not at his side. Currently, the best he could hope for was to buy Dancer some time, but oddly that seemed a good enough reason to him.

Consigned to his fate, he calmly stepped out from behind the tree, and before the demon could register what was happening, he threw both his readied daggers at the creature. The creature was fast, it quickly brought its arms to a blocking position . One dagger bounced off a blade while the other struck the creature squarely in one of its shoulders. The dagger wound however seemed to infuriated more than hurt demon.

Martinez drew both his back up daggers and darted towards his foe. Talia slashed a scimitar at him, which the duelist easily dodged, and jabbed a rapier at him which he narrowly ducked. At that point, Martinez knew he had made a mistake and sensed the demoness's first two attacks were simply to hem him in. He felt the massive bulk of the creature's tail swing approaching him, and he knew he was too low to the ground to avoid it.

"I've caught you at last worm! " , cackled Talia. Martinez thought that calling him a worm , was akin to Raoul calling him a big oaf. Look at a mirror you dumb bitch, was the last thought of the duelist as his end approached.

He braced for the crushing blow, but the massive tail seemed to lose all its power before it struck him. Martinez tumbled back from the softer than expected strike and saw Talia paralyzed in pain, with a shining blade jutting out from the front of her chest. Martinez wasn't quite sure what was happening, but then a red shadow appeared on the demoness's shoulders. The demoness appeared as surprised as he was , but was powerless to do anything. Martinez thought it would thrash around wildly but guessed the shadow's blow had severed or at least pinched its spine cleanly. Then with a graceful twist, the shadow impaled what look like a parrying dagger into the top of Talia's skull, pinning her jaw shut as it fell face fist to the ground.

Martinez blinked in disbelief as the shadow skipped with cat like grace from the descending demon and landed lightly before him even as the creature crashed into the ground.

"Thanks, I had to wait for my opportunity. I always fight better when there's a distraction, " apologized Dancer timidly.

Martinez blinked again in disbelief, but quickly recovered his wits. He swooped her up in his arms and kissed her deeply , Darokin Style. Dancer resisted slightly at first, but relented quickly under the duelist's passion.

* * *

After stripping the demon of its weapons and some interesting jewelry, Martinez and Dancer finally returned to camp, else more demons might show up. Though it wasn't the wild evening of love making he was hoping for, he noted the way Dancer was smiling at him and he thought it had been a good night.

Martinez noted Sammy was talking to some of their lest reputable neighbors, but she quickly saw them and waved at them. He was was impressed that she spotted him so quickly, but was also annoyed that she was errant from her guard duties.

"Sir...Someone is wai...", began his apprentice but the weary Martinez waved her aside and pushed through.

Martinez was surprised when he saw Captain Darwen, the second highest ranking member of the War Ravens and his liaison was awaiting him. The grey haired elf was currently engaging a game of cards with Rollo, Raoul, and Dancer's adopted daughter Hush. She seemed to be quite engaged in conversation with the remarkably affable half fiend but stopped and rose when Martinez entered.

"Martinez, I am here under the orders of the Warlord himself. He has a special mission for you and your band as we approach the dead lands," said the elf as she handed him a rolled up scroll.

Martinez shuddered as he reluctantly took the scroll from her, he had hoped the next leg of the journey would see him mostly with the army. The dead lands were a corrupted area, ruled mainly by the undead creatures known as ghouls. While Martinez was comfortable in fighting fiends of all sorts, there was something about the walking dead that gave him the chills. He looked at the scroll and saw the seal of Warlord Reaver, but he was hesitant to open it.

"It is a dangerous mission, and he understands if you chose not to accept it," stated Captain Darwen. " We'll seek someone else if you are not up to the task, though there is a sizeable bonus if you complete it," she added . Martinez was not tempted by her lure, dead men could not spend any gold, even if they were killed by the dead and joined their ranks. What would he spend it on anyways? Embalming fluid and ghost hookers?

The duelist felt a touch on his arm, and he saw the comforting face of Dancer. He then laughed out loud and tore the seal open. " Oh , I'm sure if we can't do it no one can," he declared brimming with renewed confidence.


	7. Chapter 7

Warlord Reaver sat up and stretched his tired limbs in his war tent. Few men had waged as many campaigns as he had and the weariness of a hundred battles felt heavy on his shoulders. So many enemies have been slain and so many of his men had died under his command. He wondered if his conquests and victories bought any benefit except to the few elite and privileged of Grom that could afford his services. Reaver pondered that question briefly before dismissing such notions. He sat back into his chair, and once again set himself on the daunting task to engineer his next victory.

The old general surveyed his maps, and wondered what he had gotten himself into. Even though he bested the legion of Duke Ari, there were still the armies of the Ghoul King and the Great Horde of Yeenoghu to contend with. While Ari was far from defeated, his forces were in disarray and the War Ravens should traverse his lands before an effective counter attack could be mounted. For the Ghoul King he pinned his hopes on his field consultants that Captain Darwen had hired. Even if they failed in their task, the ghoul armies should be disrupted enough for his mercenaries to evade and slip into the Dwarven Holds of Nazag Narg before the Gnoll Horde could catch them.

Reaver's plan of course was full of tactical doctrine mistakes and strategic traps. If Duke Ari can reform his legion swiftly then the War Ravens risked being caught between hammer and anvil. If Darwen's security consultants failed miserably then reaching Nazag Narg would be the least of their worries. Tens of thousands of the gibbering ghouls would hound them on all sides during the night. Also his entire plan depended on how disciplined the Gnoll armies were. If they maintained their current ten year siege of the great Dwarf City of Khazag Narg, then Reaver had a chance to slip by them. If they decided to abandon the siege and ease the pressure off the beleaguered dwarves there, then Reaver's army was doomed regardless of what they did. Counting his mercenaries and additional levies and support troops, he had roughly ten thousand men under his banner, but as well as the War Ravens could fight, it would be folly to engage the full strength of the enemies million gnolls on the open field with his band of sell swords.

Reaver of course calculated all this before. He fully expected Duke Ari to cut off his escape to Grom, and he expected nothing but heavy resistance from the ghouls and the gnolls. His ultimate goal was to reinforce his friend the Dwarf Princess Ymir and her fortified Thaig, and he would risk all in doing so. The mountain dwarves in Nazag Narg were much more decentralized then their lofty hill dwarf cousins in Khazag Narg. Also , while their defenses were strong, they were not as mighty as the legendary walls of the Great City of Khazag Narg. Despite these factors, Reaver knew it was a superior place to defend. The wild areas to the back of the dwarven Clan lands would be impossible to encircle, thus ensuring a steady stream of supplies to the Thaig. With these supplies and reinforcements, Reaver was sure he could punish the gnolls greatly if they attacked. While each individual barrier of strongholds paled to those of Khazag Narg , the Clan dwarves of Nazag Narg could fall back to multiple prepared positions if they need be. The enemy could attempt a sapping maneuver to battle in the tunnels beneath the dwarf lands, but that would be suicide. He heard reports that the gnolls had little success in the tunnels against the ill-suited heavy infantry of the Dwarves in Khazag Narg, and they would find it even harder going against the more specialized tunnel skirmishers of the Clans.

Reaver considered the situation but then shook his head. There was still one central hole in his plan that was the dreaded Gnoll Demigod himself. Yeenoghu had so far bested all opponents in his over one hundred year reign of terror. He had slew the great Champions of the North in the north, defeated many prominent dragons of the Ring of Scale, and even banished the great archmages of the Three. Even summoned Titans and Solars were no match for the Prince of Ruin.

"Oh, all's not lost yet oh Great Warlord Reaver" , chirped a small sinister voice.

Reaver turned and saw it was Baalphzon his imp he had thought he lost during the century old siege of McDunnalds.

"Have you found what I seek?" asked the Warlord curtly.

The small muscular imp shrugged its blood red shoulders. "Mebbe. The parameters you specified weren't exactly easy to come by. So I did the best I could."

Reaver raised a doubtful eyebrow." What did you find exactly?"

Baalphzon flew to the Warlord in an attempt to land on the man's shoulders, but Reaver brushed him off before he could land. Rebuffed the imp perched on one of the Warlord's candelabras instead. "Well, I think you have the right idea. It takes more than a legendary hero to defeat Yeenoghu. It will require a legendary weapon as well. Just like Sir Hildraxel and the great blade Galatea did on an alternate world, you will require something of that magnitude to be victorious here."

"Yes, yes. I know this. Did you find Galatea?" pressed Reaver.

The imp smiled sheepishly and held out his hands in an empty display. "Well…no. That blade has been lost for ever. From my research, Sir Kalidor defeated Galatea's last wielder then cast the weapon into something called the Scar. I hear a few tales that the weapon was recovered but was lost again somewhere in the Shattered mountains. "

Reaver slumped into a chair and sighed," Then it appears that this expedition is doomed. Regardless of how many gnolls and ghouls we slay, or how many victories we win, when Yeenoghu finally decides to intervene and end our farce we must fall back or perish. "

Baalphzon shook a finger at the Warlord, "Nu uh. Has good ole Uncle Baalphzon failed you yet?"

Reaver chuckled, "Uncle Baalphzon? When did you start referring to yourself in that manner?"

"Actually Hush started calling me that in the other realm, but never mind that. I've summoned some of the finest artificers and magic dealers in the land. They might not have the Mace of Saint Cuthbert, Galatea the Demon Scourge, the Black Blade of Kalidor, or even the Sword of Kas, but their wares are quite impressive. Surely one of them has the weapon you seek," proclaimed the imp proudly.

Reaver considered his statement as he rubbed his chin. He felt the stubble of his unkempt beard as well as a familiar feeling. He did not feel hope or confidence, but he felt an emotion best described as a controlled bloodlust; the moment when he trapped an enemy on the battlefield and was prepared to crush them mercilessly. Regardless if he was destined to defeat Yeenoghu he would at least make him pay dearly, and this was sufficient enough for the Warlord. He smiled wickedly as he waved for the imp to bring in these magic merchants.

"The Enchantress Jhallia," introduced Baalphzon.

The first to enter was a woman of peerless beauty, long red hair, perfect alabaster skin, and enchanting blue eyes. Only a missing hand marred her perfect appearance, but Reaver knew immediately what she was. It was rumored that Sir Hildraxel had defeated a Succubus over a century ago and severed her hand. Since then she was doomed to wander the mortal realm till she retrieved her appendage. Reaver heard that this creature lost much of her power and was forced to peddle her demonic knowledge and apparently magic items in order to survive.

"Dalton the Sage," smiled Baalphzon as the second man entered the tent.

Reaver eyed the sage carefully with his hand hovering over the hilt of his blade. He knew the man, or rather the dragon well. He hunted the creature decades ago, after the dragon sage had stolen the Great Forge of Power from the dwarves of Khazag Narg. In the end the dragon paid the Warlord a sizable sum to call off his hunters, an agreement that proved beneficial to all except the hill dwarves. Reaver was still cautious in any dealings with the dragon , but wondered what type of item he might have been able to create with the great dwarven forge.

"Finally , the brother's Buckles, Knuckles, and errr…Peanut," mumbled the imp.

Three gnomes entered the tent cautiously. Reaver felt nothing for disdain to the three. Though he had never encountered these particular creatures, the old general hated gnomes in general. He had fought numerous long ,frustrating, and ultimately unprofitable campaigns against the diminutive demi humans. While all were eventually successful, his victories were often due to some mishap with gnomish technology than from the valor and sweat of his own soldiers. Despite his contempt for them, he waved them in. He might have not liked the creatures, but he respected their power and military prowess.

"As you can see, I've assembled quite the collection of artificers for you. They are each powerful in their own right, and have evaded the tiefling armies to reach your tent," bowed Baalphzon in a precise practiced courtly manner.

One of the gnomes stepped forwards and struggled to place a large case on the Warlord's table. His own height and the height of the table were vastly incompatible. Baalphzon flew over to offer to help, but the gnome waved him off. The small artificer then pulled some sort of lever on his belt, which then extended his boots to over four feet tall. The gnome teetered and spun before falling flat on his face.

Reaver chuckled as one of the other gnomes angrily snatched the case from his comrade. "Gimmie that Buckles"

The gnome then magically grew to over twelve feet tall, ducking slightly to avoid tearing the tent apart. He placed the case gently on the table before the old general before shrinking again. Reaver was surprised but not startled by the gnome's power. He had fought many of his kind before. They were called Spriggans and were deadly front line shock troops of the gnomish armies.

Reaver half suspected a trap, but felt his magical wards and contingencies would save him from any attack. He opened the case and found a beautifully crafted battle axe.

"May I present to you…..GNOME MERCY!" stated the now shrunken gnome proudly.

Baalphzon slapped his own forehead at the silly name. "I told you to come up with a decent name," hissed the imp.

The third gnome glared angrily at the imp. "It is a decent name, it loses some of its meaning in the translation to common."

Reaver was about to ask him to say the name in gnomish, since the Warlord spoke dozens of languages perfectly , but he was too entranced by the axe before him. He gripped the weapon and found it perfectly balanced and felt power surge through his arms. He swung it once at his heavy oak war table, and he easily tore through the corner of it.

"This axe was originally forged to battle dwarves, but was enchanted by our grandfather to battle gnolls, trolls, ghouls , and thouls instead," commented the first gnome that was struggling back to his feet.

"A thoul?" asked Reaver.

"An ancient creature, half ghoul half troll," yawned Dalton. "Fear not, such abominations have long been extinct since the days of Blackmoor. "

Reaver nodded, "You said your grandfather enchanted the weapon that means you three are mere merchants?"

The second gnome nodded, "You are mostly correct, though we practice in the field of artifice, this is our dearly departed grandfather's greatest creation."

"It used to be a hammer! ", piped the third gnome before the first two silenced him with withering glares.

Reaver considered the gnomes weapons. Though gnome magic was unpredictable it was also powerful. The fact it was created by these three's grandfather meant that there would be no maintenance plan, let alone a proper warranty.

Dalton the sage stepped forward next. Reaver respected the dragon's power but was not intimidated by him. The dragon was mighty indeed, but he was considered a second tier dragon, slightly below the ruling members of the draconic Ring of Scale; dragons like Lady Glacius, Magda the Betrayer, Katrina the Black, and the Great Caesar the Golden were the truly fearsome dragons of this era.

"While my failures at operating the forge are well known, I have accumulated a grand treasure trove through the years, "began Dalton.

Reaver remained stone faced though his curiosity was peaked. This was the first time that he had heard that Dalton was unable to use his purloined forge, but it did make sense. It was a dwarven artifact and presumably only dwarves could use it. Reaver could well imagine the decades of frustration and costly experiments that the dragon expended in trying to crack the forge's secrets. He wondered how many dwarves Dalton captured or coerce in his attempt to unlock its mysteries.

"I have no love for Gnolls, and rather see humans dominating the lands than those furry demon worshiping hyenas," continued the dragon as he presented a heavy runic scabbard.

Reaver nodded at his statement, and thought the more likely excuse was that the dragon needed some extra infusion of cash before fleeing this world. Regardless of his true motivation, the Warlord was still interested in whatever he had to offer.

"May I present to you the Caladbolg, the sword of kings!" proclaimed the shape changed wizard in a victorious shout as he pulled a gleaming golden blade from the heavy sheath.

Reaver was entranced by the shining sword. The old warlord considered himself more a tactician than a swordsman, but he could feel both strength and history emanating from the blade, as the weapon lit the dark tent. Reaver considered his search over right away but something didn't seem right.

"Wait, wait. You said sword of Kings? I am not aware of any royal houses that are missing any ancestral swords. What king lost this weapon and will be they coming after it? ", asked the Warlord suspiciously, fully aware of the dragon's past thefts.

Dalton's smile cracked before he shrugged. "Well, it's a long story. During one of my sojourns to find an alternate residence…"

Reaver smiled, you mean a place to run to when the gnolls conqueror this world, he thought.

"..I came upon a land in turmoil without a king. To choose a king, this ancient blade was embedded in a great oak tree. It was said whoever drew the weapon would be recognized as the king, be they serf or knight. Naturally I tried and failed miserably even with my great strength, but this blade was too intriguing to pass up. So….when no was looking I stole the entire tree and transported it to my lair…err my lab. Though the magic defending the weapon was powerful, I asked my old friend Royal Adventurer Kerr to dispel the spells guarding it, "explained Dalton.

"Are there other spells or perhaps enchantments or possibly curses on this item? "asked Reaver in a reserved manner.

"Of course not !" protested the wizard. Baalphzon flew onto Reaver's shoulders and stared into the wizard's eye. The imp glared at the merchant, and the old general thought the two were matching wills. While the wizard was a shape changed dragon of tremendous power, Baalphzon was something else, something greater, something dark and sinister. Reaver wasn't sure what he was exactly, but he knew he was not a mere imp.

Dalton broke the stare first and began to sweat, " Yes..yes … I discovered there is one unusual enchantment on it. It's not quite a curse though. When the wielder of the blade dies, the next person to grasp it will be compelled to return it into the lake nymph that forged the weapon. "

Baalphzon turned and grinned at Reaver. "Yes, you are correct. I am something dark and sinister."

Reaver ignored the imp and turned to Dalton. " So you aren't actually selling this weapon to me, you are actually leasing it to me. And after I perish, it must be returned, so there's not a rent to own clause is there?"

Dalton shook his head and bowed. "Yes, you are correct."

Reaver snorted, as much as he needed a powerful artifact he would not shackle himself with a bad contract. He did not get to be over a hundred by signing bad deals.

Baalphzon nodded at Reaver's unspoken thoughts.

Jhallia the enchantress was the last to step forward. Reaver looked at the perfect beauty before him and a hint of nostalgia fell over him. He knew it wasn't a charm or some spell she was weaving on him as he sometimes felt the resurgence of his old memories. Even as she spoke the old general drowned out her lovely voice as he remembered the beautiful woman he once scorned long ago. The old general's thoughts were in a jumble as the pains of the past bubbled forth from his memory. Reaver felt regret as he recalled the times they shared together and that anger and pain he directed at her. It wasn't her fault, he should have comforted her in her time of need. It was inevitable that she left , and Reaver lamented the scorn he directed at her. It was to be their child, their baby. Everything would have been different if she survived he thought.

Suddenly a sharp pain snapped Reaver back into attention. He turned and saw Baalphzon had bit him in the shoulder hard enough to draw blood. "Boss! Boss! Are you going senile, your thoughts are all over the place! " hissed the imp.

Reaver shook his head and turned towards Jhallia which had stopped her speech and stared at him. An ominous ivory hammer was placed on the table before her.

"Go on, I was listening," mumbled the Warlord.

The Enchantress smiled sweetly at him. " As I was saying, I have procured the infamous Squirrel bone hammer of Lord Steelskin. Crafted from the bones of a juvenile squirrel this weapon has broken through the deepest dungeons of Grom and even the chains of the plane of Carceri, the prison of Titans. It was said to have once been in the possession of the chaos god Kard himself. This weapon is harder than adamant and has even defeated dragons . "

At the mention of the word dragons, Dalton shifted uncomfortably away.

Reaver nodded as he recalled the legends he heard of this hammer. It was truly an amazing feat to simply defeat a squirrel, juvenile or not. The Great Squirrel of Grom was said to be a fearsome furry monster able to devour armies and castles. Only the fact it was only active a few months every century was the reason that civilization did not descent into anarchy.

"Why do you wish to part with such a powerful weapon? Are there any drawbacks?" questioned Reaver.

Jhallia smiled. " I am sure you all know about my curse,specifically I am bound to do selfless deeds till such a time my hand is returned to me."

The three gnomes seemed puzzled by the response. "Curse?"

"As for any drawbacks, yes there is one. A weapon made of squirrel bone is not an easy one to handle. It will attack its wielder as much it will attack its foes, though it reserves the bulk of its hatred for its enemies, "replied the Enchantress cryptically. She then pointed to the weapon and waved with her single hand and offered the weapon to the Warlord.

"As powerful as your foes may be, nothing is more powerful than an enraged squirrel," she commented.

Reaver grabbed the hammer and noted it was heavy and unwieldy, he swung the weapon and noted it was not as balanced as Dalton's blade or as well-crafted as the silly named axe of the gnomes. Reaver then struck his table squarely and was amazed at the weapon. Not only did the weapon crack the hard wooden surface, but it seemingly took a savage bite out of it as well.

"Boss! You're bleeding!" piped Baalphzon as he pointed at Reaver's hand.

Reaver released the hammer and stared at his hand. His hand was torn as if bitten by a rat or perhaps a fox. It was a minor wound, but it penetrated even Reaver's enchantments.

The warlord then grabbed the hammer once more and lifted it tentatively. He expected it to bite his hand again, but noted it seemed to be dormant or in some sort of passive mode.

"It will only damage you when attacking an opponent. The enchantments binding the squirrel spirit to the weapon only releases its power when used in an attack, "explained Jhallia.

Reaver recalled the stories of the demigod Yeenoghu. Not only was he a terrible foe to face in battle, but it was said he could regenerate all his wounds. The mighty Champions of the North was said to bring terrible wounds to the creature, but the demon lord simply regenerated its wounds and continued to battle. This vicious weapon however did not simply just inflict injuries, this weapon actually ate its opponent. Could this weapon defeat the dreaded Prince of Ruin? Could this be the weapon that Reaver had searched for?

Reaver smiled at the Enchantress. "Let's talk price."


	8. Chapter 8

Zax whistled happily as he shoveled away the manure. When the tiefling was first conscripted into Duke Ari's legion, he had wild fears that he would be placed in the front line against a firing line of Warlord Reaver's dragon golems. Zax thought for sure he would end up dead or maimed, but luckily that didn't happen. While Devilman's platoon had grabbed Izzy and himself out of the wilderness for the purpose of replenishing the Legion's ranks, it didn't take long for Zax's special skills to surface.

Zax quickly found his niche in the Legion by volunteering to take care of their war mounts. It was fairly easy for Zax, especially if you consider the fact that most animals react violently around evil outsiders such as his fellow tieflings or devils. Zax however learned long ago to handle the critters. Good hygiene to mask his scent, a gentle word, a soft touch, and a liberal dose of his special woodland powder soon made the aggressive animals docile and easy to handle.

Zax always considered himself an animal lover kind of guy. Besides the caring for his fleet of horses and sled dogs, Zax also had some skill in veterinary medicine. Before Lower Lueders fell, the tiefling even enrolled into the Greenwood Circle of Druids and learned about herbal remedies and medicines, though his study there was cut short by Lady Cerasum's demon hordes. Still the knowledge he learned from the Circle was sufficient enough for him to manage his stable of draft animals; the creation and application of his happy powder came in very useful in his line of work.

"I can't believe you are degrading yourself like this," grumbled Gally the magical blade at his belt. While the blade use to correct him to address her as Galatea, Zax's penchant for using nicknames eventually made her give up that request. The glittery weapon seemed a bit incongruous at the side of the dirty orange tiefling, but oddly no one seemed to notice it. Zax thought it must have been some enchantment on the blade that allowed it to blend in when it chose, even though it shined brightly against his grungy workman's tunic.

Zax shrugged. "It beats fighting in the front line ," he noted. While the Legion had not engaged in any major field battles since their defeat against the War Raven's hands, there had been numerous skirmishes since that time. Zax had heard that most of the battles were rather lopsided in the enemies favor, but that did not surprise him. He guessed the Legion was putting a screen of expendable light infantry to delay the enemy before they could regroup and counterattack.

"An astute observation, there's more soldier to you than meets the eye," commented Gally. "Even under all that grime….", she added in an unimpressed tone .

Zax nodded. "Well, I was in the Third Army you know, even if it was the Quartermaster Corp ," explained the Tiefling softly, careful that no one else could hear. While the tiefling was basically alone amongst the war mounts of the Legion, Zax could not risk anyone knowing he had served with their enemy. All they knew was that Izzy and himself were from the demon City of Lower Lueders and he didn't want to risk any stray ears hiding behind the nightmares , hell hounds, or even the lone War Mammoth that was stabled around him.

"So how long will you stay with this group?" probed Gally as the tiefling resumed his shoveling.

Zax shrugged. "I dunno, we're hundreds of miles away from civilization, and I'm guessing if we tried to hook up with the War Ravens, they'd probably attack us on the spot," replied Zax. "I don't mind it here….but I fear they'll find Izzy out soon. She's not a tiefling, and even being an Albino won't cut it forever. People are already asking questions."

"Is that a hint of concern I hear in your voice? Do you have a soft spot for our young pale friend? " chuckled Gally.

"It's not like that. She's just a kid. Besides, I found her and I feel some obligation to ….ummm…..keep her safe I guess," shrugged Zax.

As the tiefling vocalized his answer, he began questioning his own motives. All his life he was mainly concerned with his own well-being first, to show concern over some waif he found in the snow seemed odd behavior to him. It definitely wasn't some sexual desire for the white skinned girl, Zax guessed she was around fourteen years old, while he was nearing 120. While the tiefling still kept a youthful appearance form due to his infernal blood it was merely superficial. He was old, and sometimes he felt old . Besides, while Izzy had a fair face and well groomed hair, she lacked the soft and gentle curves that he found attractive. She looked more like some kind of body builder or some servant girl from the fields.

"The term you are looking for is warrior. Despite her appearance, I sense she is a warrior," corrected Gally.

Zax rolled his eyes at the mind reading blade, and continued once again to shovel. Izzy was a problem, but the tiefling admitted she was an entertaining problem. While Zax easily found a niche in the legion handling their war beasts , the odd albino was a different matter. To begin with, she spoke no common, and more importantly she wasn't a tiefling or some other infernal creature like the rest of Ari's legionnaires. The communication problem was solved by Gally with her telepathy and ability to understand some strange tongue called Jotan, though Zax noted that Izzy was learning bits and pieces of common at an incredible rate. The other problem however was merely forestalled.

Zax made up some strange story that Izzy was the spawn of a rare snow sheet devil, a bizarre made up creature that most of his fellows believed, but knew the more she was in contact with his fellow soldiers the more likely the ruse would be discovered. To limit her contact with the rest of the army, Zax made a show of how Izzy was his woman, a common enough occurrence, and woe to anyone who thinks otherwise. Some dramatic sword waving, and some over dramatic posturing by Zax made it seemed like a plausible situation. Izzy of course was stubbornly against this plan at first, and almost pummelled Zax for suggesting it, but luckily Gally persuaded her to go along. At first the white skinned girl was reluctant to play the part, but as the days passed she seemed to relish and even over act in her role.

Izzy would take great pains to exaggerate shows of affection to Zax. Everything from rubbing her head against Zax's shoulders like an oversized kitten, spine breaking back breaker twirls that she executed with her great strength, to showers of kisses that oddly froze his skin. The normally dour girl seemed to take impish delight at her deception. To Zax's surprise and amusement, her kittenish performance evoked an uncomfortable reaction from the rest of the tieflings; a sure sign that it was working. While he knew the albino's reactions were merely an act, Zax found them strangely comforting. The fact of the matter was, that Izzy was pretending to be a tiefling that was pretending to be in love with a tiefling, that was pretending to be a soldier in an enemy army. It was a relationship completely based on deception, but for some reason Zax found it oddly engaging.

"That's because all your previous relationships have all been with vacuous society climbers or women with low or little moral values," sniffed Gally.

Zax paused and pondered her statement.

"Gold diggers and whores," sighed the blade in a disappointed voice.

"You can probe my memories? " asked Zax in shock.

"Not easily, but it's something to occupy myself with when you are engaged in …manure shoveling," complained the sword.

"Hey….this is a vital task in animal handling. I'll let you know… ", began Zax but was swiftly interrupted.

"Zahax! " chirped a high voice. Zax turned and saw it was the tiefling with the large glassy eyes and the half bird face. Birdgirl or something.

"Lililithy, "corrected Gally.

Zax shrugged. While Birdgirl was one of the more bizarre looking tieflings in his platoon, he did admit she was one of the more likeable and mannered ones.

"Zahax! Come quick! Word has it that Lieutenant Arbatos is after Izzy," shouted the bizarre looking girl.

Zax shuddered in fear at the mention of the name, Arbatos the Beast of Lueders. The creature was one of the commanders of the Legion's feared shock troopers, that swept the Grommish Armies during the first invasion, and had harassed the armies scouts and rangers ever since. Tales of the monster's depravities were the stuff of horror stories, especially the crimes he committed against women.

Zax dropped his shovel and took a step back. He considered abandoning Izzy at that moment and running screaming towards the woods. While Zax guessed he had roughly only a thirty percent chance of making it past the camp sentries alive, but that's better than the one hundred percent chance of death by Arbato's poisonous beard or glaive. Zax figured if he could just make it to the forest, he could hook up with any remaining druids he could find there. Give up everything and return back to nature, at least till he could find a way back to proper civilization.

"Zax…Zax….Your aren't seriously considering abandoning Isula? I know you're not a knight or a hero, but you can't leave now. She may be a bit strange, but that little girl needs you, "implored Gally.

Zax stopped at the mention of Isula again. He already tried to help her, he rescued her from the snow, and even warded off goblins to save her. He didn't owe her anything else. He didn't owe her anything else.

* * *

The tiefling irregulars mulled nervously at a respectful distance. The barbazu or bearded devil shock troopers had muscled their way into the camp. The recent defeat they had suffered against the War Ravens had made them agitated and restless, and they decided to vent on their lower ranked allies. While tieflings were reviled by humans as demonic creatures, to actual evil outsiders they were considered the scum of the lower plane hierarchy. The barbazu took great delight in delivering random beatings and taking whatever little valuables they had. Fortunately for the tiefling's though, their general bizarre and hideous appearance made the barbazu refrain from slaking their lusts against the women in their camp. Even the barely presentable ones , like Lililithy, were considered too deformed and strange for the bearded devils. The barbazu generally kept away from the tiefling women, that is except for the strange albino new comer.

The Beast of Lueders, Arbatos had come to take tribute. He was a massive humanoid almost seven tall with broad shoulders and a hunched back. Scars crisscrossed his large knotted muscles, as his long black beard writhed about with almost a mind of its own. He had heard there was a relatively attractive new recruit in the tiefling camp, and had decided to sample her delights. While the other tieflings had shied away from Isula due to respect for her mate, the bearded devil commander had no such compulsions.

Arbatos snarled as he caught sight of his victim. A slip of a girl , short with pale almost white skin, and a full head of white bluish hair. She glared at him across the camp, appraising him with contempt before retreating into a large tent. Before she vanished she waved for him to follow, which sent the bearded devil into a rage. He would not spare her his wrath simply because she offered herself, he would take what he want with all the force and fury of a commander in Ari's Legion. Arbatos flashed his jagged teeth as he planted his massive war glaive into the ground. He swatted a cowering tiefling with his long spike tail for good measure as he made his way towards the tent of his prey.

* * *

Zax wasn't sure why he was heading back to the camp. He had a very keen aversion to violence and every instinct in his body told him not to go. Even the animals he was taking care of did not want to see him go. The hell hounds howled at his passing, the nightmares stomped and snorted as he left, and even the fearsome fiendish Mammoth trumpeted angrily.

"The animals don't miss you. They miss the drugs you lace their food with, "corrected Gally coldly.

"They aren't drugs, its special lotus powder to make animals happy, " sniffed Zax. "All half decent druids use it, " he added indignantly.

"Eh? Did you say something," asked Birdgirl as she guided the orange tiefling back to the camp.

Zax stared at the large eyed partial bird face girl curiously and then stared at the silver sword at his side.

"She can't hear me unless I allow it, "explained the silver blade.

Zax nodded and then thought carefully on how he would handle Arbatos. Even with Gally at his side, it would be useless to match the monster in strength or skill at arms. Zax however, believed the Beast of Lueders could be bribed. While he was loathed to surrender some of the gold he found in the ice cave, he thought it might be sufficient enough to divert his attentions. There was some fear that Arbatos would demand more from him, but Zax weighed the risks and decided it was the best action to take.

"Aye, even if I augmented your skill, I doubt you could defeat a beaded devil in battle, let alone one of their leaders," agreed Galatea.

"I'm actually not that bad with a blade. I was in the army you know, "grumbled Zax.

Birdgirl stopped at the last comment and turned to face Zax with great concern in her face. "Wait….you aren't seriously considering dueling Arbatos? He'll crush you and rape both you and your girlfriend's shattered corpses. Don't think I'm exaggerating either. One of our champions, Yperion the Orange Crusher, tried to stand up to him. Arbatos not only killed him, but defiled his body ," she said with a cold whisper.

Zax raised an eyebrow. Orange Crusher? What a cool nickname he thought. He was orange, he should try to get a nickname like that. Maybe Orange Terror or the Orange Hero.

"Or maybe Orange Juice, if you don't get your head back into the game," commented Gally.

Zax and Birdgirl reached the camp, and found most of the Barbazus had expended their fury. There were many tiefling's sporting wounds and bandages from the bearded devil's show of force.

"Is everyone ok?" asked Birdgirl to a smaller clawed tiefling. Zax remembered dealing with the little chap on numerous occasions, a dependable little guy he nicknamed Badgerboy.

"As well as expected Lililithy," commented Badgerboy with a bloody smile. He then noticed Zax and lowered his head. "I'm sorry, " apologized the small clawed tiefling.

Birdgirl turned to Zax and gave him a helpless expression. Zax thought at this point he would simply shrug and return to his animal handling duties. He had missed the crisis and the confrontation he dreaded. However instead of fleeing in cowardice, the orange tiefling suddenly felt mad with rage. Izzy didn't deserve this, no one did.

"Where is he…..," demanded Zax in a cold voice as he slowly drew his silver blade. Under most circumstances, Gally would not allow Zax to draw her unless she permitted it, but the tiefling's raw anger overpowered even her formidable will and soon he had the flashy blade in his hand.

Birdgirl and Badgerboy both took a step back. They had never seen Zax so possessed with anger, let alone suspect he had such an exquisite weapon. Badgerboy simply pointed towards a large dining tent and the small crowd gathered outside it.

"He's still inside," gulped the small clawed tiefling.

"Do not do anything foolish or hasty. I will support you in your quest for vengeance, but I fear it will end badly. I am not like the cursed blade Dragon's Flame, I do not augment one's skill and reflexes. My enchantments are primarily focused on severing heads. My power can only manifest if you can catch your foe unaware or slip past his defenses, "cautioned Gally.

Zax took note of her warning and proceeded towards the tent. He could hear soft pained moans and hoarse grunts from within. The crowd outside backed off as he approached. Most of the tieflings turned away in shame but Zax saw there were several sneering barbazu mixed with the crowd. The bearded devils seemed more amused than worried by the armed tiefling. He guessed they relished the thought that Zax would fight their leader, and were simply waiting for bloodshed to come. Zax agreed with their assessment, but continued nonetheless. He knew he stood no chance even with his magical blade, but the thought of the suffering that poor Izzy was enduring was too much for him to bear. He was the farthest thing from a hero , but even he had his limits. Even a simple commoner carriage driver could take a stand.

As Zax approached the tent, his focus wavered. This was probably the last thing he would do and he wondered if he should make a dramatic speech or something first.

"No…no….." pleaded a small voice from inside the tent. Zax's hesitation vanished and his resolve returned in an instant. The tiefling dashed inside the dark tent ready to confront the Beast of Lueders.

"Orange boy take too long…, " snarled Izzy as she shot Zax an annoyed look.

Zax was stunned at the sight before him. The great Beast of Lueders, Commander Arbatos was face first on the ground, bound and gagged by strips of leather seemingly torn off his own armor. Zax noticed several large violet bruises on his reddish body, as the creature writhed on the ground grunting in frustration and pain. Atop of him was Izzy , wearing the same white straps and the cloak he had given her, sitting on the bearded devil with a bored look on her face.

"Save me….Orange boy save me! " shouted Izzy to the flaps of the tent. She then gave a swift kick to the bearded devil beneath her and Zax winced as he heard the sound of bones snapping. Arbatos grunted in pain and the small albino smiled as she heard shocked murmurs from outside. She then turned to Zax and her grim expression returned.

"Isula still weak. Not want others know , Jotan killed him. Not now…..," explained the small girl.

Zax's jaw dropped. "Wait…how did your common get so good so fast? "

"She's a fast learner ," noted Gally with an amused tone.

Izzy nodded at the sword, then whispered something into Arbato's bleeding ear. The bearded devil's eyes grew wide even as the small girl grasped his large head. The creature's beard instinctively reached up and ensnared the girl's hands but in a single swift motion she twisted and snapped his head, thus ending the defiant facial hair's struggle.

"Magic anchor him to plane ," she said with a smile as she began removing the straps binding her now dead victim. Zax stared at her dumbfounded. She was just a little girl she found in the snow, this was impossible.

"Well, my belief was that she's a giant. Due to her speaking Jotan and all. Some giants have magical powers, and shrinking to her current size would not be a problem. However, I did have my doubts about that theory since maintaining that size constantly is taxing even for an archmage ", commented Gally.

Izzy shrugged at the hypothesis , then turned to Zax. " Isula no like you, but Isula trust you. If devils don't kill you, you'll take trophy you take spoils from victory. Isula still too sick, Isula still hide. If devils asks , Orange boy use his forked tongue, " she stated as she picked up a chair and smashed it audibly onto the ground.

"No….stop fight !" she shouted in feign terror once again at the tent door.

"Wait…what did you just say?" demanded Zax. Izzy paid him no attention as she then burst through the tent door. Zax could barely see her past the tent flap, but she had fallen to the ground and was bursting in tears.

Zax wasn't sure what was happening , but he ran out the tent after Izzy . While the albino was careful not to reveal the whole scene inside, Zax was not so cautious. The crowd gathered gasped as they saw the prone form of Arbatos by the remains of a smashed chair.

Zax froze as he saw the crowd was staring at him.

"He's…dead. He snapped his neck, " said a voice behind him. Zax turned around and saw that Badgerboy had scampered inside and was checking the corpse of Arbatos. Zax half expected the remaing bearded devils to rush him, but instead the entire crowd collectively took a step back.

"Wait…he snapped his neck while holding that sword? He snapped it with one hand? " asked a nameless tiefling from the back of the slowly growing crowd.

"Yes! Orange boy stronger than big beard fiend," confirmed Izzy as she clung meekly to Zax's leg. The albino turned to Zax and gave him an impish smile which both infuriated and charmed him.

As Zax and the crowd were still reeling in a state of shock , a flutter of angry wings filled the air. A half dozen of the dark winged fallen angels called Eryines descended upon the stunned crowd. They were armored in dark chain mail, and most carried bows and light blades. Though few in number they were amongst the Legion's finest scouts and skirmishers.

"Captain Dahana!", saluted Birdgirl, the first of the crowd to snap out from their fearsome presence and acknowledge the winged archer.

The dark winged angel glared at Birdgirl then nodded her head," Corporal Lililithy is it? Where is Commander Arbatos ? Ambassador Talia has gone missing. If something has happened to her there will be repercussions from Lady Cerasum. We need Arbatos and his barbazu berzerkers immediately to discover her fate."

Birdgirl shifted uncomfortably. "Errrrr….that might be a problem," she admitted as she shuffled to the side, revealing the slain fiend.

Dahana's eyes narrowed and began glowing an ominious red; her dark wings expanded to their full span and fluttered menacingly. "Who is responsible for this outrage?"

The crowd of barbazus and tiefling hesitated before unanimously pointing at Zax.

"Eeepp….." gulped the orange tiefling with Izzy stilled clinging to his leg. The albino was still shedding her false tears in mock anguish. Zax tried to shake her off to deflect attention to himself, but the small pale girl's grip was too tight.

Dahana and her cohorts turned towards Zax and Izzy and then nodded knowingly . "Did you duel Arbatos for ….for your girl?" she spat in disgust.

Zax's knees quivered under her glare and would have fell on his back if not for the albino girl at his leg propping him up. Badgerboy however stepped forwards. "Arbatos wanted Zahax's woman, so Zahax marched in and gave that bully a thrashing."

Dahana seemed taken aback by Badgerboy's statement, but a look at the rest of the crowd and especially the dejected bearded devils confirmed his statement. She then looked at the orange tiefling and his albino consort again and shook her head in disbelief.

"According to Infernal rules of engagement, specifically regarding battlefield duels, the winner of a martial contest that saw one of the participant's demise shall claim the loser's rank and office till he is judged incompetent by a superior officer, defeated in a similar manner in which he inherited his current position, or at a cessation of hostilities where an arbiter can be appointed to rule on the legitimacy of the ranks divvied in such a manner, " dictated the dark angel.

"Huh?" replied Zax as he scratched his head .

The gathered tieflings and bearded devils mimicked his reaction as they mumbled amongst themselves in confusion.

"Hail Zahax, newest commander of the Legion!" shouted Birdgirl at last.

"Hail Zahax newest terror of Ari's Legion! May your enemies tremble as you approach ! ", shouted Dahana.

The crowd of tieflings, barbazus, and Eryines echoed her sentiment and began to shout in unison.

"Hail Zahax! Hail Zahaz !"

Zax looked on despair and wondered if he was required to actually fight in his new position.

"Cheer up Zax, at least things will be interesting now, " chirped Gally much to his disappointment. Zax did not see it that way , and would rather trade the radiant blade in his hand for a simple shovel any day.


	9. Chapter 9

The screams of terror in the night brought a slow smile on Doresain's face. For a ghoul he walked remarkably upright, and even with his pale ghostly skin he had an almost human appearance to him. Most referred to him as one of the most noble and comely of the demon lords, even more than the obsidian hide Grazzt, however with his maw grinning with rows of razor sharp teeth, Doresain looked everything like his fearsome reputation.

The Master of the White Kingdom.

Herald of Yeenoghu.

The King of Ghouls.

Doresain relished his titles, primarily for the intimidation it brought to his lesser foes. Even now as he listened to his ravenous hordes harrying the enemy, he could hear whispers of his name as the mercenaries begged his followers for mercies that would never come.

Warlord Reaver had been bold, but ultimately foolish in his battle plans. The War Ravens were a formidable force, having already defeated that cocky fool, the half fiend Duke Ari and his vaunted Legion, but they were now far into enemy territory. Doresain's divination magics were warded against but his spies and scouts had told him that his foe's ultimate goal was to reinforce his allies in the Dwarven Holds of Khazag Narg. A bold and dangerous strategic ploy, but this tactical maneuver would be the Warlord's down fall.

The enemy was now committed to their cause, there would be nowhere to run, no retreat for them.

Behind the War Ravens laid the treacherous Shattered Mountains . Though they bypassed the fallen City of Lower Lueders , the evil goddess that claimed it could strike out at any time. Lastly, but most importantly, the remnants of Duke Ari's shattered Legion was reforming; conscripting and summoning more troops as they were mobilizing in pursuit of their foe.

Ahead of them lied even a more treacherous gauntlet. During the day hundreds of fiendish Hyena riders of Yeenoghu were skirmishing the flanks and the foragers of the enemy. Creatures that once were mortal but had been slowly warped into creatures as foul as demons by their close association with their demon lord's abyssal energies. Even more dangerous was Doresain's own army of ghouls at night. They greatly outnumbered the mercenaries but the Ghoul King was no fool. While he could easily sweep them away in an open battle, the enemy fortified themselves behind ditches and palisades at night.

Instead of confronting them directly he sent his hordes against the enemy in relatively controlled raids. The bestial ghouls either leaped over the short walls, or tunnelled underground to devour their enemies. Their terrible bites could spread deadly diseases, and even their unholy touch could grip their prey in an unholy paralysis. While the enemy put up a stiff resistance and inflicted terrible losses to his forces whenever they attacked, Doresain was patient that his campaign of attrition and fear would drive their foe to act rashly.

As Doresain contemplated his plans, another scream of terror punctuated the sky. The ghoul king savored the sound and could almost hear the pleas of some poor victim being dragged away by his ghouls.

* * *

Hida Franksada slammed his shield into the charging ghoul. While the old knight was far from his prime , the strength of his shield arm smashed the undead creature's face and teeth into a pulp. The ravenous creature gibbered in pain and confusion from the blow as he stumbled back, but the old knight fell low and lashed out with a sweeping motion with his leg. Frank's foot caught the unbalanced ghoul squarely in its ankle and sent it crashing to the ground.

Pain flared in the old knight as he felt something pulled in his back. Frank ignored the soreness, reared up from his position and smashed his hammer into his prone foe's face. He felt another sharp pain in his hand, and almost dropped the weapon in surprise, but was mesmerized as he saw his weapon had sprouted rows of gnashing teeth that seemed to devour chunks of his opponent's skull like a rabid squirrel.

The ghoul struggled briefly but soon stopped under the hammer's onslaught. Frank heard a slobbering breath next to him and twirled to meet it. Two more ghouls rushed him before he knew it. The old warrior narrowly ducked past the first's claws and then slammed his hammer into the second one's gut. The creature gave a short bark of agony as its stomach and what passed for his lungs were ripped apart by the vicious weapon. Frank wheeled to face his remaining opponent but saw it was hacked in half by an armored, ogre sized grey skinned warrior.

"Oh hey Hal, did you see that? This hammer bit straight through that ghoul," beamed Frank as he braced his sore back and surveyed the carnage around him. Scores of ghouls had been cut down during this last skirmish for a chance to carry off screaming victims into the night. For the most part their gibbering foes' forays were unsuccessful, but they did manage to carry off the odd camp follower now and again. Frank knew that Reaver could have sent the non warriors deeper into the camp for their safety , but instead the cold hearted Warlord left them at the fringes to bait the enemy. The enemy would continue to attack and suffer monstrous losses as long as they thought they were inflicting casualties to the War Ravens. It was a dick decision by his friend, but something Frank had come to expect.

The armored giant next to Frank grunted as he looked for more foes as well, but set his great axe down when he saw none were within range. "That hammer made a mess of your hand, I don't see what so special about it ," grunted the former Baron of Veb.

Frank looked at his hand and saw that Hal was right. While the hammer had bit clear through both of his foes, it had also made a mess of his own hand. Frank laughed it off though, whatever damage it had done to him, it did way worse to the ghouls.

Hal shook his head in disapproval at the old knight. " A less flashy flaming blade, or even a mithral weapon could have done the same thing, without the hand biting, " noted the large tusked warrior.

Frank shrugged as he stretched and straightened his sore back." I dunno, this old girl kind of grows on you," he snorted. "I like a girl that bites once in a while…rrrrrrawwrrrr….," he added with a mock purr.

Hal grunted, but quickly snapped to attention and gave a crisp salute.

Frank knew that the salute was not for him and searched for his old comrade. He finally spotted Warlord Reaver surveying the battle. He was oddly wearing his distinct black ornate armor with the iron ravens carved on it. It was mostly used in ceremonial affairs and Frank found it odd that his friend would be sporting it on the field. It practically screamed shoot me to any enemy snipers if the ghouls had any, but it did have a morale boosting effect on his own troops. Reaver appeared to be taking account of how many of his troops and non combatants were felled. A difficult task since the enemy had an unnerving habit of carrying their opponents off to feast on. Not a pleasant end, especially since many of their foes were merely paralyzed and not dead.

Frank shuddered as he died once in a similar fashion. The old warrior recalled he was mucking around a dungeon in his youth. He had slain two mindflayers but was stunned by a third. The old knight remembered being conscious of his surroundings but unable to do anything about it. The squid face critter seemed to gloat as it extracted his brain out his nose and eyes. Frank grimaced at the grizzly way he died but more at the fact of how much gold it took to resurrect him from that death.

"How's that hammer working out?" asked Reaver as Frank waxed nostalgically over one of his many adventures and deaths.

"Good so far, but I could have killed these small fry with a broken wine bottle. I don't need an artifact hammer that bites me to handle these chumps," sniffed Frank.

Reaver nodded. "You'll have your chance soon enough, but for now I want the troops ready for an extended march tomorrow. Also get the druids to raise the palisades slightly. Perhaps a half foot but no more," ordered Reaver.

Frank bowed and tipped his helmet with an exaggerated flourish, a flippant response only he could get away with. " As you command mighty Warlord, our enemies shall tremble as we flee the field once again and cower behind our walls, " chuckled the old knight.

Reaver smirked at his friend's jest and continued his rounds.

Halvor raised a heavy bushy eyebrow at Frank when the Warlord left their presence. "Half a foot, why not a full foot or even two? The current height allows a single average soldier to carry a single log on the march, any longer will require multiple soldiers or draft animals to carry it. We can raise it a good four or five feet if we need the extra labor, "commented the large armor warrior.

Frank chuckled. "Hal, Hal , Hal. Haven't you ever read the Ancient art of Worcestershire sauce?"

Hal gave the old knight a plain stare." Yes I have. I've studied all the great Halfling Generals. Infact, I've committed that particular text to memory."

"Oh really? Can I copy your notes when the test comes?" joked Frank" but seriously, our goal isn't to deter the attacks, but to make them pay as much as possible for them. We want the wall more difficult to scale, but not hard enough to deter all their attempts. And let's face it, the ghouls are certainly not dwarves, their attempts at tunnelling is even worse than their wall hopping. It's like playing whack a mole when they stick their ugly mugs out. We've taken out close to two thousand ghouls by my count this last week, and we lost less than a hundred soldiers in return. That's two thousand less ghouls we have to face when we meet them on the open field. "

Halvor growled at the response. " We've lost a lot more than a hundred camp followers, even after they were allowed into the main Castra. If we raise the walls, the enemy would not be able to strike at any of them. What's two thousand of the enemy compared to the tens of thousands of the gibbering beasts the enemy still possesses? "

Frank sighed. The old knight spotted an unclaimed chair and limped towards it. He sat on it to ease the pressure off his sore back and waved towards Halvor. When the big warrior approached, Frank rapped his knee hard with the shaft of his hammer. "Do not question our leader publicly, you got that son ? " hissed Frank.

Halvor glared at the old knight as he rubbed his sore knee and nodded .

Frank's stern expression lightened as he reclined in his newly claimed chair. " While this little dance of attrition is fun to play out, Reaver wants to make the enemy think we're on the run. That we're running scared. The enemy expects us to take measures to limit our losses, namely increasing our march rate and strengthening our defenses. Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak. "

Halvor was surprised at the old knight quoting the Art of Wor, but did not seemed convinced at the explanation. " I see, but I don't understand why all this deception if we are too engage our foe in open battle. We have to battle the ghouls before we near the bulk of the gnoll horde else we be caught between hammer and anvil, it would be suicide not too. We would have been better off to face them in open battle as soon as we set foot on the Slay Plains while Ari's forces were in disarray. "

Frank nodded and gave an approving look. "Correct, but I think you have to stop thinking such big picture and start looking at things a lil smaller," smiled the old knight as he tested the weight and balance of his war hammer.

* * *

A ghoul howled and shrieked in an excited manner at Doresain.

"How many and is their leader with them?" questioned the Ghoul King.

The ghoul coughed before cackling manically.

"Intriguing," replied Doresain as he lightly pressed his fingers to each other.

The ghoul then whined expectantly, which was acknowledged by a bored wave from Doresain's hand. The creature howled once more before falling on all fours and bolting back into the night.

The Ghoul King smiled at his scout's latest report. While his semi bestial horde was incapable of properly employing siege weapons against the fortified enemy, they excelled at brutal assaults directed at the War Ravens' weak points. The spiked ditches and sharpened palisades extracted their toll on the swarming ghouls, but the undead cared not for casualties or losses if it meant dragging back some screaming victim to the rest of their host. After over a week of such costly raids and assaults on the enemy camp, the War Ravens had finally broken their ranks.

Doresain intoned a clairvoyant spell and saw that a small assorted band of cavalry and mounted scouts had separated from the main army at dusk, and were heading to the Dwarf Holds by themselves. The Ghoul King spotted the distinct black Raven armor of their leader, surrounded by a small honor guard, and he flashed his razor maw at the opportunity that presented itself. The Warlord must have realized that they could not continue at the rate they were going, gnolls harassers during the day and ghoul raids at night, and was attempting to reach the Dwarf Holds by himself. It was too dangerous to do so during the day , when the much faster gnoll cavalry were out, but it was possible if they attempted to outrun the ghouls at night, especially if the main army was left behind to be used as a screen and fend for themselves. It was a harsh move, but one Doresain could understand. He would sacrifice his own troops if placed in such an unenviable position.

Doresain thought Reaver's desperate ploy would work if the Warlord faced only regular ghouls, but sadly for him it was not the case. The Lord of the White Kingdom was a master of magic and the secrets of teleportation were well known to him. While Reaver had a formidable reputation as a swordsman, his martial skills would not be enough to survive a battle with the King of Ghouls.

Doresain summoned his own handpicked band of Abyssal ghouls, brutish bear sized creatures that were part demon and undead. The ravenous creatures howled expectantly at the coming battle but waited patiently like hounds at his feet. Doresain nodded and they all vanished in a split second.

In a flash the Ghoul King appeared leagues away from their starting position, somewhere in the foothills between the Dwarven Holds and the Slay Plains. Doresain motioned for a particularly large ghoul to kneel, and grudgingly it did. He then hopped on his back and rode him like a human would a horse. From his new vantage point he saw a group of roughly twenty riders riding fast. Chief amongst them was the War Raven leader. Doresain had seen him briefly before amongst the enemy lines, and was delighted to see his scouts were not mistaken.

While mounted, they were still too fast to overtake, but they would tire soon. As soon as they stopped to rest, he would transport his band again to take them by surprise. The Ghoul King began to cackle, and soon lost his carefully maintained calm civilized demeanor. The normally dignified Doresain started to bay and howl like his savage subjects and soon the abyssal ghouls joined their lord in his cacophonous screams. In one fell swoop, Doresain would cut the head off the enemy, elevate himself in Yeenoghu's eyes, and humble that cocky Duke Ari.


	10. Chapter 10

"I can barely ride, let alone move in this tin can. I'm also hot and this armor chafes, "complained Martinez. To demonstrate his point, the plate armored duelist attempted a few short jerky torso rotations on his similarly armored warhorse.

The large armored warrior riding next to him grunted in mock sympathy. "I'm sorry boss, but they didn't have any women's plate mail in the War Raven's armory, "grinned Raoul in response as he stretched and examined his strangely grey hands. "At least they didn't paint you. This stuff is crazy itchy. These fake horns are annoying too, the glue kind of shrinks the surrounding skin," he added as he gingerly adjusted them on their head.

Martinez chuckled and shrugged. "Well I guess it could be worse," commented the duelist as he pointed to an old warrior in golden gilded full plate and his grey haired companion further up the cavalry column. "I'm sure Sir Rollo realizes he's the biggest target here while he's wearing Reaver's armor. And Sammy's not gonna fare much better. Wig or not, they'll think she's a mage and she'll be high on their target list."

Raoul shook his head. " Errr boss….that's not Sammy."

"I'm right here," responded a skinny horseman trailing the oddly armored duelist and grey painted half giant. To reinforce her statement, the horseman drew back her hood briefly revealing the brown youthful face of Martinez's apprentice Sammy, before hiding her appearance again.

Martinez blinked blankly at her. "Wait, if Sammy is here, who's that next to Sir Rollo? I admit I didn't pay too much attention in the briefing, but I'm pretty sure Captain Darwen is supposed to be back at camp with the real Reaver. Who in all the abyss is that?"

Raoul shook his head, careful not to dislodge his fake horns. "That's Hush in a grey wig. We thought having an actual spell caster playing our stone faced liaison would be more convincing than Sammy here. I thought you knew."

"Umm no, I didn't know," stated Martinez nervously. "Err are you sure this is a good idea? Hush isn't actually a demon hunter. In fact she's like a half like a half demon herself as well as a young girl."

Raoul eyed the duelist suspiciously. "We barely took her out, and there were four of us," declared the half giant. He then reached out to Sammy and messed her short dark hair with his grey painted hands. "Sammy's good, but not that good…at least for now. "

The young girl beamed a smile at the compliment before falling back into her position in the cavalry column.

"I'm not questioning her competency, ummm…I'm worried if her mom finds out," clarified Martinez sheepishly. The duelist waited for an answer from his comrade but none came. He then turned and saw the half giant had a surprised look on his face as he was staring at him.

"It's fine , it was my idea, " whispered the unmistakeably soft voice of Tyris in the duelist's ear, followed by a short kiss on his neck.

Martinez quickly turned but saw no one. He prodded the empty space behind him tentatively but found nothing remarkable.

"She was there on the back of your horse…and then a second later she was gone, "stated Raoul in disbelief. "I didn't even smell her."

A slight shudder ran down Martinez's spine. While he was undeniably good at the art of stealth, the cocky duelist had to admit that his current love interest was better. He didn't know how a crazy woman from a sanitarium got so good at hiding and literally vanishing in plain sight. Maybe she learned her skills from evading the orderlies?

"Will you two be quiet," ordered a stern voice from ahead of the column. A trio of riders broke rank and fell back to Martinez and Raoul's mounts. Two were clad in dark plate in the style of the War Raven's elite guard; while the last was clearly a woman garbed more like an aristocrat than a soldier. The lead rider was a spry old man with what appeared to be a rune covered hammer made of bone at his side, while his cohort was a large man wrapped in armor and dark cloths. Martinez guessed the fully clothed individual was as big if not bigger than the massive Raoul, but his dark garb helped disguise his size. The woman on the other hand, was an attractive and shapely middle aged woman with a noblewoman's flair to her. She had bright red gold hair and was not shy in displaying her many golden necklaces and rings that she wore. Her dress and cloak were both a matching fashionable silky black purple, with a fine furred white trim.

"Silence you two goofs," repeated the old man. "The whole point of this exercise is deception, and the more you two blab the more likely we will be discovered."

Martinez shrugged dismissively then took a riding crop and swatted the old man's arm.

"Oww…what was that for? "Complained Sir Frank as he rubbed his arm, despite his armor the duelist skillfully whacked him in the jerkin between his bracer and gauntlet.

Martinez grinned." Well, since I am supposed to be pretending to be you , it makes sense that would be what I would do to a lippy underling."

"Lippy underling?" questioned Frank in equal parts surprise and annoyance.

Martinez nodded. " While we're on the subject of disguises. I have a question. I understand why Rollo is playing the role of Reaver, cuz he's old like the Warlord and fits the body type. Raoul here is playing the part of your big bruiser bodyguard, Halitosis or something right?...since how many other seven foot tall guys are you going to find. and umm….Hush is playing the role of Captain Darwen, but why am I playing you? Don't you have another old geezer to fill in that role?"

Frank grew red, but held his tongue. "Shh…..what did I just tell you about blowing your cover."

Martinez chuckled at the old knight's comment. "Look, I accept the fact that they can read our body language, but I highly doubt these ghouls can read lips, " stated the duelist. He accented his point by threatening to whack Frank again, but refrained from doing so. "Also….who is this lovely beauty next to you, I don't believe we've been properly introd …OWWW", barked the duelist as he felt a sharp pain to the small of his back similar to a hard rabbit punch. The duelist quickly turned behind him but once again saw nothing.

"Err… horse fly?" asked Frank unsure of what elicited his doppelganger's odd response.

"You can call me Lady …Madeline," interrupted the noblewoman with a sly seductive smile. Martinez would normally have reached out and kissed her dainty hand, but chose not to for fear of retribution from his obviously jealous unseen girl friend. "I've been hired by Warlord Reaver to provide adequate magical protection, specifically to ruin any magical scrying attempts and to prevent teleportation and planar shifting magics around your group. "

Martinez scratched his head, "Wait, isn't that typically Captain Darwen 's role?"

Frank snorted. "Pfft…yeah….but she's not here….OWWWW…", yelped the old knight as Martinez swatted him again.

"Watch that tone soldier, "commanded Martinez with a smirk. After the old knight was properly chastised he turned back to Lady Madeline. "Will I be able to count on your magical expertise for the coming battle."

The noblewoman shook her head and feigned a disappointed frown. "I'm sorry, but I've only been employed to provide arcane misdirection. As much as I support your cause, I cannot be seen opposing Doresain and Yeenoghu directly. "

Sir Frank raised an eyebrow. "The Great …Madeline… intimidated by a pair of demon lords? Tell me it isn't so. "

The noblewoman frowned, but cheered up when Martinez swatted Frank once again. " I have harbored a desire to challenge the demon prince of gnolls for quite a while now, though I will concede that Yeenoghu is probably beyond my own vast powers. Despite my enthusiasm to test myself, my situation has changed since I now have young to look after. At the first sign that Reaver's plan will come to fruition, my obligations will be fulfilled and I will take my leave from the battlefield and return to my lair to be with them."

"err… I'm no wizard but doesn't a dimensional lock, or whatever it's called, affect everyone inside. If that's the case, won't you be vulnerable if you attempt to leave its area of effect? ", asked Martinez."If you so desire, it would be my pleasure to ensure that a lovely conjurer as yourself be protected during the duration of the battle….OWWW…", yipped the duelist as he felt a stiff jab to the small of his back again.

"Horse flies? " asked Frank's hulking dark robed companion in a gruff voice, as he scanned for the unseen insects.

"I thank you for the offer, but I should be fine. I am much more …robust than I appear. I should be able to make it back to my children before they hatch," bowed Madeline graciously. The dark clad trio then rode back into their positions back in the column.

"That's good to hear…..wait…hatch?" asked Martinez.

* * *

Doresain watched hungrily as his prey began to slow down. They had ridden at a quick pace during most of the night, and the ghoul king guessed that either the magic they used to illuminate their path was wearing out or more likely their long flight had taken their toll. The Master of the White Kingdom hoped his victims were not fatigued, since that affected the taste of the meat. The Ghoul King preferred his prey full of the sweet flavor of fear rather than the bitter tang of exhaustion.

Doresain concentrated his arcane energies and saw that the Warlord and his body guard were predictably warded. The Ghoul lord's skill at the arcane was normally able to pierce such defensive spells, but the enchantments that protected his foe were crafted by a very skilled conjurer. Not surprising given Reaver's reputation.

The Ghoul Lord knew that he could not drop his small host of abyssal ghouls on his foes directly due to the dimensional lock in place, but that did not prevent him from teleporting his band nearby. When they materialized his pack of demon ghouls grew wild with rage and despite his control over them they howled and screeched loudly for all to hear. Doresain knew the element of surprise was gone, but he could smell the sweet fear on his foes at his ravenous band. He flashed a smile, revealing rows upon rows of dagger like teeth, and with a wave he unleashed his abyssal brethren on Warlord Reaver and his guards.

* * *

Martinez had expected the ghouls to quickly catch up to them once their band slowed down, but he certainly did not anticipate the lightning attack made by their enemy. The duelist guessed the creatures attacked in less than a minute after they dismounted and begun making defensive preparations. Quite a feat considering even the sharp eyed Martinez detected no sign of pursuit by the undead horde.

Even more shocking than the speed of the attack was the size of the attackers, while Martinez had battle ghouls before, they were typically the size of a famished human. The creatures attacking them now were great grey skinned brutes, each the size of a horse, and resembled ghouls as ogres mimicked humans. They were savage hunched back creatures, with long forked tongues and sharp knife like claws, and they moved more like great hunting cats than anything even remotely resembling a humanoid.

While undead were not the demon hunter's forte, the scent and general evil aura of the creatures' screamed some sort of demon to the duelist.

The creatures' initial assault easily overpowered the unprepared warriors that were erecting defensive mantlets that ironically were meant to halt such a charge. Martinez watched as one the great beasts pounced on a sell sword before he even drew his blade, and bit his head off in a single fluid motion. Another one of the monsters snapped at a more prepared guard and was pushed back briefly by the man's shield, but the creature simply howled and threw its entire mass on his victim. The guard impaled the charging creature with his blade , but was quickly paralyzed by the ghoul's supernatural power. Then the creature slammed its victim into the ground and tore his helpless prey into pieces.

One of the monster ghouls broke rank and rushed directly for Martinez. The duelist's initial reaction was to evade the creature's barrowing run, but he was still encumbered by the heavy armor he was wearing. Instead, he crouched low and drew his daggers. He timed the monster's gallop and figured he could slow its movement by a well place toss into the creature's foot , which would buy him a split second to dodge and perform a perfectly executed slash to its throat.

As Martinez readied his strike, a large figure counter charged the approaching ghoul and slammed a great axe directly into the monster's back. The duelist winced as he heard the snapping of the creature's bones , and watched in morbid curiosity as the ghoul almost folded itself into a U around the interloper's weapon.

"I had him right where I wanted him," protested Martinez at his half giant companion.

Raoul flicked the black blood off his axe as the ghoul collapsed in a heap from his powerful attack. "Hey I'm playing the role of Halvor, Hida Franksada's body guard. I'm supposed to protect you instead of watching you take all the glory and kill steal my victims like you normally do. Hmm, I'm more of a staff guy, but I can get use to using an axe," noted the half giant as he surveyed the carnage he had wrought with the iron weapon. "Oh, and you better put away your daggers and stick with your sword if you want to keep this little charade going. At least till the ghoul king shows his ugly mug."

Martinez sighed and reluctantly agreed. He saw that the initial surprise charge of the ghouls were broken, and the War Ravens were beginning to push back the demonic ghouls. He spotted his 'twin' Frank chop a ghoul down while Sammy harried it with her spear. He also saw Sir Rollo chop another horse sized ghoul down with a single blow, and guessed the old paladin channeled some of his divine energy into that blow. Martinez knew that the old warrior was deadly against demons but he would not be able to maintain his holy might for long. The duelist knew he had to force the enemy's hand so he drew the blade that was given him and fell in line behind his 'bodyguard'. "Rally around me! …..Errr…Protect Warlord Reaver!" he shouted as he tested the weight and balance of the broadsword. Though he was trained in the use of most weapons, the traditional knight's blade was a bit too heavy and cumbersome for his taste.

* * *

Doresain tasted the blood in the air, and almost lost his composure. While the Ghoul Lord preferred to maintain the outward visage of a civilized cultured mage, sometimes the bloodlust was too great and the undead beast within him bubbled to the surface. Despite himself, he was still able to maintain his self-control and access the battle in a logical manner.

The initial charge of his abyssal ghouls proved better than expected, but the War Raven's proved a resilient foe. Doresain knew there was little chance that his victims would all break and run, but he had hoped that someone of them would. The ghoul lord would have let those cowards flee, and savor hunting them down at his leisure later to devour their fear filled hearts. To his annoyance the mercenaries began rallying around their leaders.

One was a particularly vocal individual that Doresain could not initially identify. He was a younger man in ornate plate armor and the Ghoul Lord did not recall any enemy officers that fit that description. However a large brutish individual with an axe appeared at this man's side, and the Ghoul decided the unidentified man must have been the infamous Hida Franksada. Doresain assumed the warrior's younger appearance must have been due to minor magics, or more likely the use of womanly facial creams and foundations that the vain warrior was known to use.

The other leader was easier to identify, an old man with gold gilded armor that Doresain had spied cutting down an abyssal ghoul with a single blow. At his side was a grey haired woman weaving magic but also appeared comfortable dispatching foes with her blade as well as her spells. The pair could be none other than Warlord Reaver and his pet sorceress Darwen.

Doresain watched as the pair and their growing band of rallied guardsman dispatched another one of his ghouls, and knew it was now the time to strike. He barked several harsh gibbering words in the air, and his band of ghouls turned their attention towards the Warlord. As one they screeched and roared and charged their victim, ignoring any foes that they were currently engaged with. Some of his minions were cut down as they rushed their new target, but most ignored the blows and bore down on Reaver.

* * *

Martinez had trouble finding his rhythm with the broadsword, but he knew a back when he saw it. The large abyssal ghoul he was engaged with inexplicably turned and fled from him , and the duelist took advantage of the opportunity given to him. He plunged the heavy knight's blade into its lower back, and gave it a two handed half twist before retracting the blade. The ghoul lost both its balance and speed as it crashed into the ground. The blow would have been fatal to a human, but the demonic creature continued to struggle to rise, but its efforts were quickly ended as Raoul buried his great axe into the back of the prone creature's skull.

"Hey…that's my kill," complained Martinez to his large companion.

Raoul snorted in derision as he scanned for another opponent, but oddly there was none nearby.

"Hmm…looks like we got them on the run already, and no Doresain the chicken king," commented the real Sir Frank as the old knight wiped his blade of black blood after dispatching his own ghoul.

"No….they aren't running, they're after Rollo and Hush! " Corrected Sammy as she limped towards the trio. The young girl then pointed to the mass of demonic ghouls charging their companions.

* * *

Doresain watched expectantly as his abyssal ghouls charged the enemy's leader. The regular mercenaries were paralyzed and swept away easily by the tide of demonic undead. The old man slew the first of his minions that had reached him, but the ghoul lord saw the old man was visibly slowing down. While Reaver's companion seemed quite adept with both sword and spell, his ghouls soon overpowered her. He watched in glee as she tried to escape through the air but was tackled to the ground by one of her monstrous attackers.

Doresain felt an involuntary dribble of drool on his chin, as he could almost taste Reaver's fear filled heart. He had told his followers that they could do whatever they want with their prey, but he was to be given the old Warlord's heart. The thought of devouring the symbolic housing of the soul of the man that had slain hundreds of thousands brought a heightened sense of anticipation to the ghoul king. A sensation that he had hadn't felt in a long time.

As Doresain waited eagerly for his prize to be captured, a large dark blur appeared seemingly out of nowhere and scattered his hungry pack with great hewing strokes from an axe. He looked in frustration as he saw a large dark armored warrior was standing next to Reaver and was swinging an oversized great axe in large arcs at his abyssal ghouls. A ghoul attempted to tackle this new threat but was sent scurrying back as its hand was lopped off by the mighty warrior. The ghoul king saw that not only was Reaver given a reprieve but the grey haired sorceress at his side was able to recover and scramble back to her feet.

Doresain knew the battle was not going according to plan. While his forces were far from defeated, he sensed something was wrong. He knew his opponent would be difficult to take down, but he did not expect such resistance. There was also something in the air that did not feel right. He could sense the dimensional lock on the area, and he also smelled what appeared to be dragon magic assisting his foes, but there was an old scent here that he could not immediately identify; a subtle aroma of entropy that he could not place within recent memory.

Doresain considered calling a retreat, or more likely to retreat while his minions screen his escape, but the odd smell vanished as suddenly as it appeared. The Ghoul King was curious what it was he smelled , but the bloodlust returned to him. He was the Master of the White kingdom, the Vassal of Yeenoghu, he would not be denied his heart. Confident of his eventual victory , Doresain strode forward into battle to take matter into his own clawed hands.

* * *

I didn't take long for Martinez to realize that Doresain had finally entered the battle. A wave of sheer panic gripped him and it took all his training to resist fleeing the battlefield. Other's weren't so lucky, and the duelist spotted some of the other mercenaries blindly fleeing , or worse fall to the ground and attempting to claw their eyes out.

Martinez quickly spotted their foe as he strode imperiously across the battlefield, and he took stock of his remaining forces. Raoul and Sir Frank were at his side , and to his amazement Sammy was as well. He had expected the other's to resist the psychic assault but did not expect his rookie apprentice to as well. The duelist had half hoped the girl would have fled as well , since she probably stood a higher chance of surviving, but he knew he needed all the help he could get. This ambush or trap or whatever this plan was supposed to be turned out to be a disaster. They had separated Doresain from his main horde, lured him into a dimensional anchor, and even forced him to reveal himself, but the duelist had his doubts they had the numbers to actually finish the job.

He did know that the time for deception was over, and sliced the loose straps holding his armor together with a clean strike with one hand, and retrieved his hidden foldout arbalest with the other.

Typically undead were vulnerable to silver but demons to cold iron, so he was unsure of which bolts to use. He crossed his fingers and chose blessed silver bolts and sent a pair in rapid succession at the ghoul king. They struck their mark squarely, but it did not seem to faze their target as Doresain simply turned and smiled at them.

Raoul was the first to reach the ghoul king as he dropped his axe and formed a staff made out of pure energy from thin air. The weapon hummed with power as the half giant swung it with all his might, but it surprisingly stopped in midair as Doresain caught the weapon easily with his left hand. Raoul struggled to break the creature's grip as the ghoul king seemed to play with him, but his contest of strength was interrupted when Sammy's spear struck the monster in the chest. Doresain seemed less than pleased and barked an arcane phrase that seemed to send a wave of force towards the half giant and the girl, sending them hurtling through the air and crashing into the ground a good fifty paces away.

"We never stop! " yelled Sir Frank as he charged the monster next with his bone hammer and shield, but the cagey old knight seemed happy to attack from a tangent. Circling behind his opponent carefully. Martinez saw his chance and fired another bolt at Doresain, before dropping his crossbow and drawing his daggers. The duelist than flanked the ghoul king hoping to extract some crippling strikes to the undead lord while his attention was elsewhere.

Doresain hammered the old knight with a flash of magic, and Martinez knew it was time to strike. He lunged forwards stabbing his daggers into the creature's back. He felt some magical defenses from the monster, but his daggers had been previous ensorcelled to cut through such enchantments and he was rewarded by a cry of pain form the ghoul king. Before he could exploit advantage, Doresain swung around with lightning speed and swatted the duelist in the arm with the back of his hand.

Martinez was thrown back into the ground and felt his arm shatter from the blow and half his body paralyzed from a chilling aura. He watched in dread as the ghoul king appeared to grow bigger and more bestial as he stalked towards him.

"I will eat Reaver's heart later. For now I….I will fill you with fear and despair...and then eat yours, " hissed the creature.

Martinez knew he was in trouble and rolled backwards into a crouch. To his surprise Doresain moved just as quickly and was upon him before he knew it. The now monstrous head of the creature smashed into Martinez's face, crushing his nose and cheek bone in the process. The force of the blow sent the duelist sprawling yet again onto the ground.

The duelist knew the King of ghouls was just playing with him now, but he was determined to go down fighting. Remarkably his one good arm still held onto one of his daggers and he tossed it reflexively at the ghoul. This desperate action must have caught Doresain by surprise as it embedded squarely into the creature's chest with a spray of black blood, but to Martinez's dismay it didn't even appear to slow it down.

"Now you die," hissed the large bestial ghoul as it swung its massive claws towards Martinez.

The duelist braced for the end but it did not come. A red shadow interposed itself between him and his attacker, and deflected the claw with her rapier and parrying dagger. The massive ghoul attempted to strike once again, but a series of quick slashes and ripostes repulsed another attack. While his rescuer was deftly skilled, the duelist saw that she was giving ground with every blow.

Martinez knew that even Tyris's unnatural skill with the blade could not defeat the enemy's sheer brute strength and took the opportunity to scramble back up. Every move and every breath he took sent pain through his half paralyzed body , but he ignored it as he picked himself off the ground. His options were limited but he still had a few tricks up his sleeve. While he had a spare set of daggers, he instead chose to throw a packet of blinding dust at the monster. At best his attack would only temporarily blind it, at worst he hoped it would provide him a distraction to escape. To his relief the packet of dust exploded against Doresain's face halting his advance as it coughed and sputtered in surprise.

Martinez forced himself to Tyris's side in an attempt to flee with the rogue, but suddenly the ghoul king howled in a deafening roar.

The duelist was staggered back at the baleful cry as the monster dropped to its knees as Sir Frank smashed his bone hammer repeatedly into its back. Martinez cringed in horror as he saw the hammer the knight wielded appeared to sprout rows upon rows of vicious teeth that gnashed and tore at the ghoul mercilessly. While his daggers appeared to have hurt the ghoul king previously, the knight and his vicious hammer were literally tearing and devouring the creature before him.

Martinez gave pause to the terrible sight but soon recovered his wits. He drew one of his remaining daggers with his one good hand and attempted to join into the vicious but one sided melee. Tyris joined in as well, but Martinez noted that her blades were about as effective as his against the demon lord. He heard what sounded like incantations from the ghoul king, but Sir Frank interrupted any such spells with the time precision of a veteran trained to battle wizards. Doresain attempted one last spell, one that the duelist recognized as some sort of teleportation spell, but the area lit up in a baleful red manner and the ghoul remained in his doomed position.

"Take that you two bit second rate one liner from the monster manual! You've been Frank Spanked! ", declared the old knight as he raised his hammer a final time and brought it crashing into the ghoul lord's terrified and confused face.

Doresain shuddered and then remained still as his body began to rapidly decompose into a black demonic ichor. The ghoul lord's death did not go unnoticed as his remaining pack either fell to the ground painfully or bolted in random directions after his death. Martinez guessed some type of psychic backlash resulted from their so called king's death and hoped it would spread to the rest of the horde that was left miles away.

Sir Frank scanned the battlefield and dropped his hammer. Martinez noted that the old knight's hand was almost chewed to the bone by what appeared to have been his own weapon. The duelist shuddered at the sight but the Frank seemed none the worse for wear.

"Wow, I guessed Reaver's plan worked. Who knew such a crappy looking weapon would be so effective," panted the old man as his years seemed to suddenly catch up to him. As much as his fatigue was showing, the old knight suddenly stopped and looked at Martinez and his companion.

"Tyris? Is that you?" he asked with wide eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

Zax whistled happily as he shoveled away the manure. It seemed unbecoming that the newest Commander of Duke Ari's Legion would be found handling the draft animals and war beasts, but it was something he was good at. He regretted his promotion and wished that Izzy hadn't stomped Arbatos the mad beast or whatever his name was head in. Regardless of everything that had happened to him, he still found solace with handling the Legion's beasts. They might occasionally kick or bite, but in the end they just wanted to be groomed and fed. Compared to the backstabbing and macho posturing of the hellish soldiers, the tiefling found them much easier to handle.

Not that Zax was in over his head with his current rank; he just found the entire situation very tiring and exhausting. Besides his yappy sword, and the freakishly strong and mouthy midget albino he had taken under his protection, Zax had to deal with insubordinate bearded devils that seemed happy to brawl and drink, snippy Eriynes archers that were preoccupied in gossiping and seducing, monstrous and alien bone devils which always seemed a flinch away from stabbing his head with their scorpion tails, the elitist Narzugon knights that looked down on him and mostly ignored his orders, and finally the tiefling rank and file that were always filing employee grievances and protesting their work conditions. Despite all this, Zax maintained a careful balancing act with his troops and he thought he handled it well.

While the bearded devils were savage and violent, they were easily placated by keeping them well supplied with booze. The sexy Erinyes were more a matter of mind over his lower body, not an easy task considering the way they sauntered and teased in their exotic dancer like leather and chain armor. Zax would have broken and submitted to their gentle caresses a long time ago, but luckily Izzy played her part of a jealous girlfriend and kept him in line; often in brutal rabbit punching or shin kicking fashion. While the bone devils were more akin to horrors from his deepest nightmare they were actually quite easy to deal with once you got past their frightening appearance. The occasional positive comments, relevant feedback on their work, flexible work schedules and of course some poor victims for them to stab with their scorpion tails kept them in line. The Narzugons were like snobby customers at his carriage business, he just had to act subservient and make them think his orders were their ideas. The tieflings on the other hand were the hardest to control. In terms of relative danger levels they were weak, but Zax always had to look over his shoulder for his subordinates attempting to undermine his authority and position with their filthy lies and rumors.

All of this military drama he juggled, while he managed to pass on his orders and avoid or delay the general duties that were assigned to him. An easy task that the tiefling was well versed in since a life time of dealing with bureaucrats and tax collectors had trained him well.

Zax shrugged and decided to make the best of it.

The howls and the barks of hell hounds filled the air, as the tiefling made his way to their kennels. A particularly large and red infernal hound snapped at Zax, and the tiefling decided to put an extra dash of his special druid powder into their feed. The dogs growled and snapped at their chow like ….like mad dogs…but quickly quieted down as they munched down on their food. The tiefling then went to the lone great War Mammoth and began throwing bales of grasses, twigs and roots. The Great War beast trumpeted angrily but like the hounds, swiftly calmed down as it tasted its feed.

"Damn…..I'm good with critters. I should have been a druid," waxed the tiefling as he wiped his brow.

"Tranquilizing a bunch of demonic war beasts doesn't mean you are good with animals," corrected Galatea the talking sword. " It means you are a shameless peddler of illicit drugs that renders these poor beasts complacent with the filth you feed them."

Zax frowned. "The way you say it makes it seems like I'm the bad guy here," he protested indignantly. "Look, I don't want to be commander in the hell army. I know what I look I like, and most people expect me to join the Hell Legion voluntarily, but we both know that's the farthest from the truth. The Grommers hate and mistreat my kind, but guys like Duke Ari and that big gnoll dude sees me as cannon fodder for their eternal war machine. Besides, I have a good and decent life back in Grom, I just want to get drug up some of these nightmare horses so I can ride them and get the hell out of here."

As on cue one of the pitch black infernal horses snorted smoke and stamped its flaming hooves angrily at the feed that Zax had thrown in its pen. Of all the creatures in the pens, they were the hardest to drug and therefore the hardest to handle.

"It won't be that simple you know," warned Gally. "Even if you somehow convinced one of the nightmares to let you ride it, the rest of the Narzugon hell knights will hunt you down before you make it back to Grom. I doubt even your inflated ego will think that you can out ride their infernal cavalry."

Zax sighed and nodded in agreement. "You're probably right. Besides, Izzy weights a ton. She would slow me down way too much. I couldn't leave her behind."

Zax waited for a reply but none came. The silver sword simply glowed in a soft pink light, the likes of which the tiefling had never seen before.

"Eh? Why the glowing?" asked Zax nervously. "Orcs? Is there danger afoot or something?"

"Am I glowing? "Giggled Gally uncharacteristically. " That must be because your statement caught me off guard. I'm surprised I didn't scan this from your surface thoughts earlier, but I guess it's because of the jumble and mish mash of ideas you call your consciousness. "

"Eh? Jumbled surface thoughts? Am I going insane or something?" puzzled Zax at the strange statement.

"Perhaps, I would have called myself insane when I first met you if I thought you were capable of showing any form of affection to anything besides gold or yourself. Though I'm still not sure that such a creature like yourself is capable of it, your genuine concern for your giant companion is very touching," explained the sword.

Zax paused at Gally's statement, confused by her bold statement. While his skin was a bright orange, he managed to grow red when he figured out what she was insinuating. Before he could protest however, the air around him swirled and buffeted him in a strong gust of wind. A dark winged Erinyes landed before him, kicking up even more dust and debris, and it was all Zax could do to keep his balance.

The dark angel Dahana bowed slightly to the tiefling, ignoring the rustic environment around them. While the Erinyes Captain had a heavenly face and form, there was a dark dangerous aura about her that sent shivers down Zax's spine. Only Gally's calming effect on his thoughts prevented him from fleeing before the dark angel's gaze.

"Duke Ari requires your presence immediately," ordered Dahana. "That is, if you are not too busy playing ….farmer," she purred with a sneer.

Zax was panicked at the thought of meeting the half fiend lord, but his instincts took over and he forced himself into taking an arrogant swagger and attitude.

"Aristocrats like myself like our war mounts to be properly groomed and prepped, not all of us have the luxury of wings to fly into battle," sniffed Zax ." Though, I must admit your feathers are quite lovely even if they are slightly ruffled," he noted with practiced flattery.

Dahana smiled seductively at the flirting tiefling but maintained her stern gaze. "All Commanders of the legion are expected in Duke Ari's tent within half an hour. "

Zax grimaced, partially to maintain his façade but mainly because he suspected there was imminent danger to his person approaching. " What is the nature of this emergency? Did our lord run out of wine or did he break a nail? " While insulting Duke Ari was always a dangerous thing, the infernal lord did have a reputation of enjoying the finer things in life a little too much. Zax hoped that his fake familiarity with the Duke would put Dahana at ease or at least established himself slightly higher in whatever hellish pecking order that was established.

Dahana shook her head. "It's a bit more serious than that. The Ghoul King has been slain. "

* * *

It took all his will power for Zax not to run fleeing from the tent. Besides the seductively tempting Dahana, and the diabolically handsome Duke Ari, the rest of his fellow commanders were monstrous terrifying creatures, currently debating and pouring over maps to determine their next action. From the bone devil commander Grxinhelx, a misshapen creature with two cyclopean heads, a skeletal body, and a trio of scorpion tails, to the massive Yamon the Narzugon, a creature clad in oversized midnight plate armor that leaked smoke from his eyes and joints, the menagerie assembled appeared to have crawled out of the pits of hell.

Zax paused and chuckled to himself as he realized that they literally were from the hells. While he wasn't too keen on Lower plane geography he rolled his eyes at himself for forgetting the birthplace of most of his captor/comrades.

"Is something amusing our newest Commander?" demanded Duke Ari with a loud and dominating voice. "Perhaps you can share it with the rest of us."

The room grew deathly still, as all gazes locked on Zax. Zax's mind would have exploded but he took a deep breath and decided to continue his performance. "I find the Ghoul King's incompetence laughable, if I was in charge of his army we wouldn't be having this conversation," scoffed Zax, oblvious to the actual situation facing them. The tiefling hoped there was an actual Ghoul King and it wasn't a code for anything. Also he hoped this Ghoul King had an actual army. The truth was he knew nothing at all about this situation but decided the macho tough guy approach was the correct act to deflect attention to himself.

"Doresain….his name is Doresain..," whispered Gally in his mind. "From what I gather, he was killed while attempting to defeat Warlord Reaver."

Zax nodded to no one in particular and continued his rant. He didn't know too much about this Dora person but he did know a bit about Warlord Reaver and his War Ravens.

"Dora the sinner was no match for Reaver, but what do you expect? Reaver and his men are careful but that's not surprising from a man so cheap. I've dealt with this man and his minions in the past, and they were nothing but cheats and swindlers. Before I joined the Legion I did some contract work for them, and the experience was anything but pleasant. They owe me….blood money…..and I aim to collect it sooner rather than later," boasted Zax.

Yamon ,the hulking suit of dark armor, hissed at the tiefling and the smoke from his eyes turned grey. Zax's eyes watered at the grey smoke but did his best to not flinch. " You worked for Reaver in the past? You know his tactics?"

"Do I know his tactics? Do I know his tactics? I know them like the back of my hand, "bragged Zax. Truth be told he had only ferried some of Reaver's officers in his carriage, but he was correct in noting that he hadn't been paid. The tiefling wasn't sure what he was saying but he knew he had couldn't let these monsters see the cracks in his image. He had to either go big or go home…presumably in a coffin.

"Zahax strong…Zahax beat Arbatos…Zahax has beer….," noted a bearded devil that looked slightly smaller than the one that Zax had defeated for his position.

Zax tried to recall his name and thought it might have been Wormbeard or something, but wasn't sure so decided to hold his tongue. "You bet your ugly facial hair that I'm strong. I snapped Arby's head like a peanut!" he noted loudly.

Several of the devils whispered amongst themselves in infernal. While Zax could understand a good bit of infernal he couldn't quite make out what they were saying.

"They're saying not only did you snapped Arbato's head, you bound and gagged him as well. Some suspect you of raping the bearded devil before you killed him," explained Gally in his thoughts.

Zax blanched. He wanted a fearsome reputation , but not that fierce.

Duke Ari seemed interested in the current discussion and slammed his fist onto the war table. "Our newest commander is not only fierce and depraved, but he seems to have an affinity for the enemy. I am appointing him to take the vanguard against the War Ravens. "

The assembled devils murmured in roars of approval, but Zax wasn't sure what it meant. Even though he had served in the Grommish army , it was in the supply corp and he knew little of military terminology save rank identification.

"It means you will lead the attack against Reaver's men. The position basically makes you one of the top commanders in the Legion, but it will be the most dangerous to be, " explained Gally again.

Zax was about to protest, but Grxinhelx the double headed bone devil spoke up first. "Outrageous! The Vanguard position is mine to command! " the creature roared angrily with one of his heads.

Zax breathed a sigh of relief. He was about to graciously let this alien creature take his position, though not without some mock protest, when Grixinhelx reared up to his full height and waved his triple scorpion tails meancingly. "You , I , fight for Vanguard. Winner lead army. Loser shall be eaten! ", the creature screeched with his other head.

Zax didn't like the sound of either option. Before he could accept or decline the challenge, Duke Ari rose to his feet and smiled. "A trial by combat to determine who shall take the battle to the enemy, excellent I approve! "

* * *

Lililithy examined the leather armor. It was midnight black with a skull motif, but sadly was the incorrect size. She sighed and waved off the young tiefling squires. "Return this armor back to the armory, this is too big!"

"…but this is the smallest size we have. Miss junior petite….OWWWW…," protested a floppy eared green skin squire before the bird faced tiefling smacked him.

"No back talk! GO !" ordered Lililithy once again, this time her large milky eyes glowing with power. The two squires bolted from the tent in sufficient fear before she turned to face her commander.

The orange tiefling was pacing around, occasionally talking to himself. Next to him was his servant, the albino girl Isula. While Zax seemed anxious, perhaps even nervous for the battle , his consort was taking great delight in his misery.

"I can't do this….I'll be crushed. The guy has two heads , and three tails! That's one more head and three more tails than I got!" protested Zax.

"You should have thought about that before you opened your big mouth," chuckled Isula.

Zax stopped and stared at the young albino girl, "I have to act tough! If I didn't I would get eaten alive, I mean literally eaten alive by those guys. It's like going to prison, you have to show those guys you belong or you'll end up being fresh meat, bent over for some big fat dude named Bubbrah."

"Well, mission accomplished, you got them all convinced you're the toughest tiefling in the prison ward. So much that they wish to challenge you for your position," noted Isula with a grin.

Zax shook angrily, but then stopped and blinked his eyes at Izzy." Hey…when did you learn to talk so well. You were talking in broken sentences like a cave woman a little while ago, before that you couldn't talk at all," he questioned.

Izzy shrugged. "I'm a fast learner."

As Zax was about to probe the albino some more, Galetea interrupted the pair. "Regardless of how clever Isula is , the fact remains that Zax will be slain soon. We should plan an escape. "

Zax stopped and looked at the sword then at Lililithy. Even though the tiefling woman had large white, pupiless eyes, she was staring at him with a puzzled look. "Err…. shouldn't you umm be quiet. Lil…lilil….Birdgirl is in the room, she can hear you. I'm not big on this covert or adventure stuff, but shouldn't we keep the fact I have a magic sword a secret."

"Relax. She can't hear me unless I will it," explained Galatea. "Right now it looks like you are just acting eccentric and talking to yourself. "

Zax frowned and shook his head. "Great…I'm going to die, and people will think I'm nuts too."

"Hey, Gally….do you think you can pop into my hand and pull my ass out of this? Just this once?" pleaded Zax.

"Sadly no. While I have helped you in the past, it took great effort on my part to do so. I'm afraid I do not have the power to fight your battles again for a while. Also remember that I was the one in control in the past, typically I cannot be drawn unless it is by one that is worthy. A great knight with a true heart. We both know that isn't you," she explained.

Isula yawned. "Don't worry . I have it covered. When you go duel, you'll state Grxinhelx is not worthy to fight you unless he can beat your servant first. That's when I step in and crush him like the abomination that he is."

Zax casted a dubious glare at the young girl. She had a fair face, mesmerizing eyes, a cute if outdated short summer hair cut, and thin arms and legs. While she had displayed remarkable feats of strength in the past, she was the farthest thing from a warrior in his mind. He was torn in his thoughts. On one hand his natural survival instincts told him that she should take his place , on the other hand he found himself lost in her clear blue wide eyes. "Err…are you sure about this…."

Isula replied with a swift punch to Zax's arm. The tiefling reeled from the pain and tears came to his eyes. "Of course I am. If my strength won't defeat him my frost magic will," she sniffed indignantly.

Lililithy stared at the scene and shook her head.

Zax scuttled back and rubbed the bruise that the albino had given him. "Maybe I still have time to flee to the nearest woods and become a druid," he muttered to himself.

* * *

Although most of the Legion did not attend the battle, almost all the officers and commanders did. A huge pit was carved into the ground to form a make shift arena for them to battle, and the gathered infernals sat or stood above it in a ring.

Zax drove all signs of nervousness from his mind and continued his charade. He had to act tough and dismissive of the enemy. He hoped that if Grixw… Grixin… Gingginxx….

" Grxinhelx ," corrected Gally.

Grxinhelx….was mad enough he would fight Izzy. He still wasn't sure if the young girl could win, but it seemed more feasible for her to fight than himself. He wasn't sure how he beat the bearded devil earlier, but hoped she could muster some of that grit again and beat this critter as well.

Zax, Izzy, and Lililithy marched to Duke Ari , waiting at the top of the pit astride his mighty fiendish war mammoth. Zax found the armor they eventually found him a bit uncomfortable and embarrassing. It was originally claimed from an elven princess that the legion had vanquished several centuries ago, and had a low neck line, and a short chain skirt. While it was normally white and pink with emblazoned prancing unicorns, the tiefling squires painted it black and drew tusks on the unicorns to make it look more meancing. While they had done an admirable job, it was still tight in the waist region, and flecks of the paint were flaking off, revealing the pink underneath. Zax at first refused to wear it, but Lililithy claimed that the perverted depraved crossed dressing look was the new in thing amongst the lower planes.

Duke Ari nodded at Zax's congregation as they arrived. Zax did not noticed Gryxl…Gssinxini…

" Grxinhelx ," corrected Gally again.

Grxinhelx, and for a second he hoped his opponent had chickened out due to his impressive reputation. Sadly his hopes were dashed as the monstrous twin headed bone devil arrived , followed by a man in a fashionable gold trimmed blue robe. While the bone devil was easily the focus of attention, Zax noted the man beside him dressed like an aristocrat with white skin and a sharply groomed dark blue beard. Zax guessed he was a tiefling but there was something off about him.

The ring officers began shouting and cheering , but Duke Ari silenced him with a trumpet from his war mammoth. "Are you two ready to determine who shall lead my vanguard?" he yelled for all to hear.

Grxinhelx snorted with one head and nodded with the other.

Zax felt weak in the knees, but shook of his fear and strode confidently forwards. "This creature is not worth my effort. Just look at him, he belongs in a circus act , not leading the vanguard of the Legion. I won't lower myself to battle him unless he can defeat my champion. " At the mention of champion, Birdgirl stepped forward but Zax waved her back. "No….I won't even lower myself by having my champion fight him. Birdgirl's magic could turn him inside out with a …err….cluck with her beak…that won't be sporting at all. I'll wager he can't even beat my serving wench."

Grxinhelx grinned with one head and laughed with the other. "Your tricks won't work on me. Do you not think I would suspect you to replace yourself with a 'ringer' to do the fighting for you. Your little charade won't work on me."

"Err….it fooled me…, " replied his other laughing head.

"Silence! ," commaned the formerly grinning head. " I too have a champion, and I'll match him against your…supposed serving wench any day. Reinhardt!"

The well groomed tiefling produced a spear from thin air, and then bowed once to Duke Ari and again to Zax.

Duke Ari roared with approval, "So be it ! Both your fates shall be determined by your champions !"

Zax watched the battle with glowing dread. While Izzy was quite skilled with the silver spear that Lililithy had found for her, this Reinny guy was clearly a notch better. What was more surprising was that even the albino's prodigious strength was unable to overpower the man. Zax had watched many arena duels before from the safety of the stands, and he could see that while Izzy was clearly stronger than Reinny, she wasn't that strong and he was what they referred to as 'slick'. He was quick on his feet and kept a cool tactical bearing on his surroundings, not letting Izzy corner him as he whittled her away methodically with his spear.

As the battle progressed, Izzy used her mysterious ice magic on Reinhardt. Zax at first was in shock at the power she unleashed, massive cones of frost, walls of frozen crystal, storms of hail and sleet; it proved to be nothing but cheap tricks as Reinhardt casually ignored them. Zax shook his head as he realized the poor girl's magic was simply flashy side show tricks one can find from a hedge wizard or street entertainer.

Zax could see no way out, no way to flee. He wished things would have ended differently, and cursed himself for accepting Izzy's plan. While he valued his own life dearly, he didn't want her fate to be tied with hers. She didn't have to die this way if she would have just shut up.

Zax watched as Reinny lashed out with a foot at Issy's midsection. The albino easily hopped back, but it was all a feint and she was caught in the side by the robed tiefling's spear. The weapon drew blood, but Isula suppressed a cry and continued to battle on.

"Why is he toying with her, why doesn't he just end this, "complained Zax bitterly, resigned to his fate. "That Reinny guy has the clear advantage , he could just go for the kill and finish her."

" Lord Reinhardt is a renowned duelist and warrior. For one thing that isn't even his true form , it's said he's even more terrible than Grxinhelx when his self is revealed, " noted Lililithy with a sadness in her voice. "Some say he was a Captain in Geryon's legion before his lord fell out of favor with Asmodeus; a Gelugon or ice devil, second in power only to the mighty lords of the pit. While I'll admit he does have the advantage, he seldom fights recklessly. He is methodically wearing Isula down while keeping his own strength in reserve, incase she tries to pull something unexpected. To her credit, Isula is bravely hanging on, but I fear she won't last long."

Zax scowled and turned to Grxinhelx. "Okay , you win…..stop the fight. I'm at your mercy, your slave, whatever….just stop this…"

One of the bone devil's heads cackled hysterically while the other was still watching the fight.

"Too much has been invested in this for you to…simply walk away…", grinned the skeletal head.

"While killing you and your retinue would amuse me, I think your submission to me is a proper lesson enough. You will surrender your position to me in the vanguard and in addition you will become my vassal," dicated one of Grxinhelx's heads.

Zax blinked his eyes and noticed there was no mention of him dieing horribly. "I find your terms acceptable."

"Also, I find your appearance …strangely stimulating, especially in that revealing armor…you will visit my tent whenever I call. "

Zax's face froze in shock, but then looked at his stupid princess unicorn suit and sighed. He was about to refuse but heard Izzy cry in pain. He hadn't been following the battle but he knew it would end soon. "Agreed….," he said in defeat.

"The sword at your side is interesting, I want that as well," demanded the devil. Zax could tell he wanted everything he had. Zax expected Gally to speak up or resist, but curiously the blade did not protest.

"Even if he possessed me , he will never draw me," explained the sword quietly in his mind. "I accept if it will spare your lives."

"One last thing. While I shall spare your life , your so called serving wench is mine to do with as I please," stated the devil with an evil grin. Zax noted Duke Ari was watching the battle in the pit intently and appeared to be ignoring their negotiations.

Zax wanted to say yes, wanted to save his miserable life, but he couldn't. He wouldn't. "No. She walks away from this or no deal."

"Sounds good," replied one head but was quickly chastised by the other.

The other head of Grxinhelx laughed at Zax. "You are in no position to deny me. I know you are nothing but a fraud like all tieflings. I can kill you and anyone here I so choose." To prove his point he lashed one of his tails out at Lililithy. The bird faced tiefling shrieked in surprise and attempted to block the blow with a spell, but the bone devil was too quick and jabbed her deeply in the shoulder. Lililithy stumbled back from the blow and fell to the ground shuddering from her darkening wound.

"I tried to be nice, but your insolence must be punished. Reinhardt! End this!", commanded the bone devil .

Panic, fear , desperation were all that Zax had left. He grabbed Galatea's hilt and felt an incredibly resistance in his grip. He recalled something about the blade saying she was particularly picky about who could wield her, but he didn't care at that point. His friends were in trouble and he had to do something. In a split second all resistance from the sword vanished and it flashed towards the laughing head.

The pit fell silent as Grxinhelx's head rolled onto the ground and eventually stopped before Duke Ari's Mammoth. Even the combatants down below paused as they sensed something critical was afoot.

"You know the consequences of drawing blood in my presence," commanded the infernal lord with his great flaming spear pointed at Zax.

Yamon the Narzugon simply pointed at Lililithy. "Err…he drew first blood, I saw it. "

Duke Ari considered his statement and turned to the remaining head of Grxinhelx which nodded in agreement and fear, while attempting to staunch the bloody stump at its neck.

"So be it. The duel is ended and Commander Zax shall lead the vanguard!", shouted the Duke. The pit roared with cheers as Ari's mammoth raised its foot and brought it crashing down on the severed head with the frozen look of shock on its face.


	12. Chapter 12

Warlord Reaver eyed the wall of ravenous ghouls. It was dusk, he was safely behind his walls and they were over three hundred yards away, but Reaver could see every yellow tooth and saliva drool trail of the monstrous horde.

"I've never seen so many of them assembled. This is much more than I realized, " noted Captain Darwen with a hint of caution. Even though the gigantic pack of cannibal undead screamed and howled for her head and everybody else's head in the camp, the grey haired elf regarded them coldly.

Reaver nodded at her assessment, but expressed little concern. " I hope those slayers, contractors, or whatever you called them are as good as the gold I'm paying them," he complained. "I'm on a tight schedule."

Darwen raised one of her long thin eyebrows in question. "Schedule? It seems unlikely that we will get out of the Slay plains, let alone make it past Khazag Narg or even to the dwarf holds of Nazag Narg. I think following a timeline is the least of your worries."

Reaver shrugged. "We'll make it to Ymir's Thaig, as long as those mercenaries are up to par," he repeated.

"They're demon hunters, " Darwen corrected with a sly playful smile. " We're mercenaries."

Reaver nodded once again. His vision lingered on the trim and proper elf before refocusing on the ghouls. While Darwen was lovely as elves go, he considered her more of a professional acquaintance than a romantic liaison. He wasn't his friend Frank, he set limits on who he flirted with, and people he worked with were off limits. It was a hard lesson he learned a life time ago.

As Reaver contemplated his relationship with the elf and his past, a wave of barely perceptible pressure struck him before swiftly passing by. He only felt a brief sense of nausea before his body returned to normal. In contrast the ghouls at the edge of camp went berserk in fury. Whatever restraint that held them in check before was lifted as they screeched and rushed the camp's fortifications. Some ran pounding their chests, while most fell on all fours and galloped like a hunting hound or some other savage beast.

"They..they did it. Doresain is ..dead. I felt the psychic scream like a…punch," Darwen said in disbelief. Reaver noted that the elf was even more pale then before, and guessed that ghouls and spell casters were greater attuned to the death knell of the Ghoul King than he was.

Reaver ignored her statement and instead concentrated on the charging horde. Since they entered the Slay Plains he had played a careful game of restraint against the Ghoul King. The ghouls were constantly at his heels, nipping at his flanks and pushing him to lash back in force. The War Ravens on the other hand had to appear defiant but still vulnerable during the attacks, they had to fend off the ghoul attacks without revealing their full strength . With Ghoul King Doresain's death however, the game had changed and neither side needed to hold back.

Reaver had no delusions though. The tide of ghouls surging towards him could easily crush his defenses, and drown his army in a sea of undead. His mercenaries would extract a heavy toll and that was all that had kept Doresain at bay this entire time. The warlord knew his opponent wasn't a mindless beast, he was more like a Grommish chess master, a skilled manipulator that liked to move his pieces to extract maximum effect while positioning his foes into vulnerable positions.

"Nah boss," piped a deep guttural voice near his ears. "He's like a Thyatian bridge player. He wants to cut off your options and finesse you to make a mistake," noted Baalphzon as he flew and landed on his shoulders. Reaver had not noticed his imp familiar's presence till now , but his return told him that his plans were still on schedule. Reaver also thought the imp familiar's analogy was more accurate than his own, since Doresain committed himself only when he thought he could cut the head off of his foe with a clean strike.

Baalphzon chuckled. "He's the one that got his head chopped off, he shoulda went for the crazy rush in the first place. This is why the hells always had the upper hand on the abyss in the Blood War. What's ten or twenty thousand dead ghouls in the grand scheme of things. He's got lots."

Reaver shook his head. "Besides us, the obvious enemy, the King of Ghouls had to worry about his rivals jockeying for his position. He held the favor of the Yeenoghu simply by his record of victories and the size of his horde, he would not risk sacrificing his troops so others can climb the demonic hierarchy."

"Pfffftt…Stupid demons and their lackeys. We never had this problem in Stygia, it was do your duty no matter the cost, and requisition more units to replace your losses, " snorted the imp. Reaver thought it amusing that the small creature still clung to the delusion that he was once a General in Hell, specifically one of the Legendary Dark Eight. " I won't even give credence to your doubtful thoughts with a proper response," sniffed the imp as he read Reaver's mind.

As the two bickered, Darwen pointed to the horde just as it crashed into the War Raven's fortifications. The 'Castra' was constructed with an earthen wall, lined with spears, and surrounded by a spiked pit. The ghouls fell into the pit in droves even as they scaled and climbed the wall like angry ants. The defenders held their ground however and rained arrows onto their charging ranks even as they jabbed the ghouls off the walls. The undead horde took horrible losses but they inched their way up to their prey foot by foot.

"Now sir?" asked Darwen as she surveyed the carnage.

Reaver made an authoritative chopping motion with his hand, and the Castra exploded outwards with fire. The bulk of the pyrotechnics were caused from the warmages previously held in reserve under Darwen's command, but dragon golems, alchemist fire, and even traditional flaming pitch was used against the ghouls. Lead by the elf's considerably magical skills, thousands burned as the weight of the charge blunted and the ghouls were thrown into confusion.

Despite the impressive display the numbers of the ghoul horde were hardly dented. Reaver saw an ocean of hungry eyes illuminated from the fire staring at them. He knew they could still be buried by the enemy if they pressed their attack.

"Again sir?" asked Darwen as she readied to unleash the rest of her magical energies against the enemy.

Before Reaver could respond, the ghouls will to fight had suddenly broken. Reaver knew he made a gamble and had won. Unleashing so much of the War Raven's strength as a show of force at the beginning of the fight was unwise in a normal battle. It would be best to use it for maximum effect, as opposed to give the enemy a clear idea of what they faced and how to avoid it. However, Reaver guessed correctly. Without their demigod Doresain, the ghouls would be an undisciplined and chaotic lot, and the prospect of crossing rivers of fire as well as scaling spiked walls drained their lust for blood.

The leaderless ghouls bolted and fled into the night. The War Ravens only pursued briefly with their cavalry to keep their enemy honest, but dared not to press them too much. If a small detachment were to be cut off and ambushed that could spell the end for all of them. It would only take a small victory to rally them again, and Reaver did not want to give them that chance. The Warlord was happy to wait till morning. The sun would scatter them and without their leader there would be little hope for them to form up into such a horde again.

Reaver then took stock of the high morale and discipline of his troops. A finer force of fighting men had not been seen since the Great Host of the Northern Knights was smashed under Yeenoghu's gnoll horde over a century ago he thought.

"War Ravens! War Ravens!" shouted the mercenaries in jubilation as they drew one step close to Nazag Narg. Captain Darwen was also caught up in the victory and uncharacteristically hugged Reaver in the excitement. Reaver did not return the embrace, and she broke off contact a few seconds later when she realized the awkwardness of the situation.

Reaver wordlessly dismissed the now embarrassed Darwen, and the red faced elf promptly took her leave from him. He noted her touch was soft, and she smelled like fresh pine. He expected a more callous grip and expected a more metal and oil smell. Reaver frowned and thought he might have handled that differently. He had known many women in his life, but only three had ever touched his heart. Nara the adventurer, his first doomed love, Brita the Pure, another doomed relationship, and of course …

"Boss? Forget about elf tail, I think we should finish the rest of your preparations," interrupted an amused Baalphzon. " Duke Ari is expecting us and I got your old helmet ready," cackled the imp.

Reaver sighed and vanquished the thoughts of his former lovers. He had an important task ahead and now was no time to dwell on the past.

* * *

The mercenaries and demon hunters had taken heavy losses battling Doresain and his abyssal ghouls, but in the end they were victorious. They were still a long ways off from the main camp, but the survivors made their way back as expediently as they could. Not an easy task since they had been riding hard most of the night. Even with restorative magics to revitalize their mounts, the darkness and the threat of ghoul packs and hyena riders slowed their return.

While Martinez's band took a more cautious speed in their ride back, Sir Frank abandoned all pretense of safety and charged into the darkness. The duelist guessed it was his superior riding skills or reckless bravery that allowed him to gallop full speed into the night. Even Sir Frank's henchman , the big ugly fiendish Halvor stuck around and made his way slowly back. Normally Martinez wouldn't have cared if the old fool got himself killed by either getting ambushed or more likely breaking his horses leg in a gopher hole or something, but the fact he left with Tyris shattered all confidence he had in himself.

"I can't believe she left with him," moaned Martinez loudly for all to hear. The duelist needed some sympathy and being an attention whore was the best way he knew how to get it.

Raoul shrugged, oblivious to the discomfort his employer was in. "She can handle herself, she'll be back. At worse she'll do that disappearing act thing. With Doresain dead, I doubt any of these other ghouls have enough talent to spot her."

Martinez shook his head," I have no doubts she'll be physically fine, but I fear she's been stolen from my heart," declared the duelist loudly for all to hear. "Never had I met a woman of such beauty, grace, wit, and charms."

While most of the soldiers ignored his lament, his own band of killers gave him curious and dubious gazes.

"Beauty? " questioned Raoul in an amused tone. " She's not bad but I give her a six out of ten, maybe a seven in good lighting."

Martinez waved away the giant's crude opinion. He wasn't a connoisseur of the gentler sex like he was.

"Stolen from your heart? You sound like a pining little teenage girl," snorted his young apprentice Sammy, who incidentally actually was a teenage girl. "I think you should give Tyris more credit than to fall for an old fart like that Sir Frank guy, like what's he got that you don't?"

Martinez turned to the young tomboy and regarded her coldly," Don't you know anything about women? They're attracted to money , bad boys, and guys in uniforms," declared the duelist. "While I certainly consider myself a rogue in many aspects, I certainly don't have the money and it's been ages since I've been in the army. I lose in two out of three categories," he said with a sigh.

Sammy's face contorted to one of shock and revulsion, "Wait a sec, that's a pretty big generalization about women. I'm a girl, and I'm pretty sure my priorities aren't the one you listed. What about how handsome the guy is , his character, or his personality?"

Raoul chuckled at her anger but Martinez waved him again to be silent.

"Ah, to be young and to live in a world of rainbows, unicorns, and fairy tale delusions, " sighed Martinez in a patronizing tone. " Look Sammy, while you think yourself worldly , you aren't. Period. You're just a girl, who barely got her breasts. You know nothing of the inner workings of how women and men interact. The bottom line is regardless of how good looking or 'nice' a guy is , the girls always fall for the dangerous dudes. Throw in some gold and a fancy title, and a guy can make panties disappear like magic. If you don't believe me, think of all the pretty villagers that always end up marrying oafs that treat them badly. "

Sammy shook her head in disbelief," You're just taking a small sample of memorable anecdotes and spinning them into a rule. Not all girls are interested in your so called bad boys. Many like upstanding, courteous individuals. "

Martinez rolled his eyes," Oh to be so young and so obviously naïve. Look, the bottom line is that the shady miscreants get first pick of the ladies and nice guys finish last. Look at me for example, besides being trumped by Sir Frank I normally get whatever woman I like. It's a god given skill. Like Raoul's nose, or Rollo's ability to smite evil."

Sir Rollo roused awake once again at the sound of his name, and scanned for enemies. When none where present, the old knight fell back into his saddle and nodded back to sleep.

Martinez grinned at the withered warrior, " Ah Sir Rollo, A former noble , a knight of the Husky, and a paladin to boot. He fought evil and all that other crap for a lifetime and he's foresworn most of his family fortune. They don't get any nicer and more courteous than him, but odds are he'll die alone. I'm sure you've heard him pine about his lost love Olga or Ogela or something when he drinks, but in the end she's probably bumping uglies with some rich barbarian lord, while leaving him as a forever alone bachelor."

"Again with the lousy examples. One old bachelor doesn't prove your stupid rule," protested Sammy .

Martinez smiled then turned and pointed to Sir Frank's side kick, Halvor. The massive fiendish warrior was trailing the rest of the pack on a massive destrier. During the battle the bulk of the enemy rushed Sir Rollo and Hush, since they were pretending to be Warlord Reaver and Captain Darwen. The pair would have been doomed if Halvor hadn't come to their defense and shattered the enemy's ranks. The warrior paid a heavy price though, and he was heavily injured, but currently he was being treated tenderly by Hush. The duelist couldn't hear their exact words but he could hear them mumble and quietly laugh at each other's company.

"Just look at him, he's as bad ass as they come. And oh….who's tending to his wounds like a love sick puppy. It's Hush, our semi mute half fiend who's said all of twelve words to us in the last two weeks. Look at her all lovey dovey," grinned Martinez as he shifted his gaze back to the trail ahead of them. He noted a flare of light miles in the distance, and guessed the main camp was either on fire or they were throwing one hell of a victory celebration.

Sammy's confidence in her own beliefs seemed to have been shaken by Martinez's last statement. The duelist saw this and let her stew in her own thoughts before coming in for the kill.

"Oh, weren't you seeing a boy yourself in Grom city. A short runt called Jim or Jimmy or something. I recall you chattering about how great he was, and how he was a member of the city guard, but before he was a rogue or cutpurse or something wasn't he? ," chuckled Martinez. "That's double trouble, a bad boy and a guy in uniform. He'll have you wrapped around his scrawny little finger before you know it."

The young girl attempted to protest but fell silent.

"He sounds like trouble, I can squash him for you if you want, " offered Raoul in a serious tone.

Sammy was stunned by the offer, but grew red when the half giant and the duelist both began laughing manically.

"Oh that was funny," chortled Martinez before growing serious again, " but seriously, what am I going to do about Tyris. I thought we were really hitting it off, but she rode off with Sir Frank, without saying a word. She's not like all the other women I've known, there's something really special about her."

The trio fell quiet as Martinez confessed his frustrated feelings, and they continued their ride wordlessly back to camp.

Finally after a few minutes the uncomfortable silence was broken. "Well you could always capture a leprechaun and steal his pot of gold, or better yet you could join the militia, I heard they provide free uniforms," mocked Sammy as she stuck her tongue out at Martinez.

* * *

Reaver strapped on his old samnite armor and to his surprise it still fit. The armor was more for show than for defense, it was covered in spikes and left his abdomen, biceps, and most of his legs unprotected. Despite his outlandish appearance, the old Warlord felt a bit of his youth return to him as he stretched and walked around his tent.

"That looks great on ya boss," praised Baalphzon as he brought Reaver the final piece of his armor. The heavily muscled imp carried a heavy steel helm in the shape of an insect helm and hovered in the air before him. Reaver looked at the battered oddly shaped helmet and took it in his hands.

The Warlord knew the next phase of his plan fell on him and him alone. He couldn't rely on subordinates or contract killers to pull this through. Duke Ari would see through such a disguise, and only the real thing would suffice.

"It's a good plan boss, you'll make it work," encouraged Baalphzon as he sensed Reaver's own doubts. While the imp's loyalty and motives were suspect, Reaver did admit he was handy and he missed his counsel the last few years.

"I would be disappointed if you didn't suspect me to be up to no good, " agreed the imp with a fang filled grin.

Reaver smiled and knew what must be done. He lifted the helm above his head, and then placed it on himself. The helmet wasn't magical, and actually impaired his vision and some of his hearing. Despite this, Reaver felt his guise complete. He was no longer the Great Warlord of War Ravens, he was…

"Oh hey Reaver, we followed your plan to the tee and it worked out perfect. Consider Doresain, bagged, tagged, and slagged," boasted the familiar voice of Frank as he entered the tent. Reaver gave explicit instructions that he wasn't to be disturbed, but he guessed his boisterous friend either cowed his guards with his reputation or more likely pushed past him anyways. " I was gonna actually go join the victory celebrations, but you will never guess who I m….INSECTOR!"

Reaver had known Frank for the better part of a century, but he was always surprised at how fast and he strong he could be. The old knight seemed to vanish from the tent flaps he had entered and appeared almost instantaneously next to him. Before he knew it, Frank's shield smashed him in the unprotected gut, sending him doubling over, before the old knight drove his armored knee into his insect helm.

Reaver landed on his back and saw that the room was spinning, he could see Frank over him with his sword ready to strike.

"Where's REAVER? What did you do with him! Speak up now, or I'll drive my blade through your piece of shit tiefling skull! " shouted Frank at his prone victim.

Before Reaver could answer, Baalphzon flew down and yanked the helmet off his master's head. Frank looked down and was dumbfounded at the sight of his friend before him.

"Is everything all right?" shouted the guards as they stormed the room.

"Err false alarm, everything is fine," grumbled Reaver as he remained on the ground. Not until the guards left did the Warlord rise with help from the old knight. "Can't I prepare for a secret mission, in , I don't know, secret! " he spat.

"Mission smission, yeesh, we just whupped Doresain's ass. It's time for a celebration. Wenching, debauchery and that kind of stuff, " chuckled Frank. The knight then eyed his friend closer and a confused look fell on him. "Err, was there going to be a costume victory party? Cus if there is , I wasn't told about it. I suppose I could get a big white sheet and poke some holes in it and go as a ghost or something, or maybe put on my furry pants and go as a satyr. Chicks dig satyrs. I'm a bit stiff to be prancing, but it'll work I think," rambled the knight. "Oh , and by the way, that's a really nice Insector costume. It had me fooled."

Reaver looked at the ridiculous outfit he had on. "This isn't a costume. I'm not pretending to be Insector. I AM Insector," he sighed.

Frank paused at the revelation and appeared deep in thought. "Wait, isn't Insector some famous tiefling gladiator that whupped ass in the great coliseum in Lower Lueders before it was overrun by that crazy goddess Cerasum? Man, those tieflings loved that guy, he was like a national hero to them," pondered the knight.

Reaver nodded, "Yes, I'm that Insector, and you are correct, except the part of him being a tiefling. After our defeat outside Amarath , coin was tight back and I needed money to keep the mercenary company solvent. I was convinced by the local crime lord to fight as a gladiator on the side. I was given an insect helm to disguise myself and to not hurt the reputation of the War Ravens. Well I won a few fights, and for some reason a rumor started that I was a tiefling, and I sort of ran with it. " Reaver then pointed at his helmet. "I guess they thought I had a bug face underneath this helmet. Anyways, it's been my little secret since then, " he shrugged.

Frank pondered this new information and rubbed his chin. " Ok, I think I get it. The War Ravens are broke right, that's why you're getting into your old gladiator outfit. You're gonna fight for cash in some arena to bolster our cash flow, correct? "

Baalphzon suddenly appeared on Reaver's shoulder and rolled his fiendish eyes at the dense knight, " By the pit, how in the world did you survive so long without forgetting how to breathe, and why in the world did Reaver make one so dumb his second in command."

Frank smiled, "Cuz I'm so damn good and good looking ? "

Reaver shook his head,"Look, this was gonna remain a secret, but I guess I owe you an explanation in case I failed. We defeated Ari's Legion so easily the first time because they were unprepared. They won't make the same mistake twice. I figure we have a 50/50 chance of victory on the open field, but as you know, I don't work with those kinds of odds. I intend to meet directly and open up a dialogue with him. "

Frank's mood grew serious and frowned, " Duke Ari's a backstabbing snake. It's said he betrayed his father, his mother Lady Janya and even the famous Knights of Winter to gain his position and power. If you want to parlay or negotiate with him, I think Darwen or I should go instead. "

Baalphzon laughed as he flew around the old knight a few times. "Oh? Do you think his hell legion will let you approach, especially after you slew Doresain in battle. He will suspect another assassination attempt and kill you first, and ask questions later."

Reaver waved his familiar away. "Baal's right. At worse he would kill you, at best he would imprison you. Even Darwen's magic won't be able to sneak you in, the Legion is more protected from magic than Doresain's horde. "

Frank threw his hands up in the air," And what? You think you can walk into his camp without magic, and without being killed or captured? Cuz of your scary reputation as the Warlord of Grom? Puh leeeze. "

Reaver shook his head and then put on his helmet.

Baalphzon pointed at the now Insect helmed warrior, " Warlord Reaver can't but the infamous tiefling gladiator Insector can. He will be able to evade any magical wards since he won't be employing a magical disguise or camouflage. Any divination attempts will reveal it's the real Insector. They won't deal with Reaver, but they will deal with the world's most famous tiefling, so to speak. "

Frank grinned and then nodded, " Hey that's not a bad plan, but it certainly isn't a good one. But, who am I to question you. I didn't think we would make it past the Slay Plains when we started, but here we are, almost at Khazag Narg. "

Reaver tilted his head at his friend's praise. "Is there anything else, before I have your permission to depart? " he asked chuckling.

Frank paused briefly before a wide grin came to his face,"Oh yeah, the main reason for my visit. You'll never guess who I met when we slew Doresain. Here's a hint, you haven't seen her in ages!"

Reaver shrugged, he had an important mission ahead of him and was in no mood for games. "I dunno, General Olive's ghost?"

Frank laughed and pointed behind his friend," I think she's been standing there silently the whole time." Reaver's senses were considered sharp, and with his Imp familiar at his side, they were supernaturally uncanny, however he had detected no presences in the room besides Frank's, Baalphzon's and his own. He didn't detect anything behind him, and thought it was another jest by the old knight, however something behind him suddenly shifted slightly, as if stepping out of the darkness.

Reaver turned around, and his heart stopped. A life time of memories seemed to crash around him.

"Umm, hello Fetch, or whatever you call yourself now,"said Tyris in an apologetic voice. "It's been a while."


	13. Chapter 13

Warlord Reaver had known many women in his long life, but only a few had touched his heart.

There was the elf Nara, the woman that inflamed his passions and motivated him to rise above his lowly beginnings. In the end, she turned out to be nothing but a manipulator and a liar, but there was something about the memories of one's past that even put the bad in a favorable light.

During his stint as a mercenary and an adventurer, he met a half elf paladin that was both beautiful and pure of heart. They fought together in the tundra wastes and found solace in each other's arms. In the end though, he placed her high on a pedestal. Reaver thought she was too good for him, and pre-emptively moved on before she eventually did. He never saw her again, but heard rumors she still crusaded somewhere in the icy tundra as one of the mythical Knights of Winter. He never talked about her, even to his best friend Franksada, but deep in his mind he admitted he involuntarily built his mercenary company for her; a pathetic attempt to prove to himself that he was worthy of her attentions.

Lastly there was Tyris, the girl he named his Dancer. He found her lost in the tundra, ironically she was trying to scale the Great Plateau which Reaver himself originated from. She was the only woman that not only motivated and inspired him, but she held the strings to his heart. Although she was a bard, her singing ability was questionable and she often seemed unsure of herself. Despite this, her soft touch and gentle words almost changed Reaver forever. He considered abandoning the way of the blade, and to simply settle down far from the conflicts in the north when he heard that she was with his child. Events conspired against them though, and they were swept up into the war with the gnolls. Reaver thought he was strong enough to protect her and their unborn child but sadly he wasn't. There were separated during the battle against the Great Horde and he never saw her again.

Reaver was devastated at her loss, and almost fell apart. At first he found solace in combat, making the gnolls pay with their blood. Later he found an uneasy peace in his role as Warlord of the North. He was quite successful in his campaigns and the rewards of his battle prowess were richly rewarded. Eventually his grief was replaced by an empty misery that saw him accept contracts and retainers simply for greed rather than any tactical advantage over the great foe. Reaver knew that regardless what he did he had failed a long time ago, and simply battled on for easy gold and riches.

A few decades ago, one of his many ears told him that Tyris somehow survived the onslaught. He was told by a reliable source that amongst other things that she had locked herself away in the Great Sanitarium voluntarily. There was no word of the child, and from his sources, she was staying there due to her grief.

Reaver wanted to see her, wanted to meet her, but he couldn't. He told himself that they had both moved on with their lives, and that they were very different people now, but the truth was that he was afraid. He was afraid to confront her over his failure to protect her and the fact he didn't do more to seek her out afterwards. While he faced dragons, demons, and monsters in the past, he could not summon the courage to see her face to face. With great sadness, he accepted it as a battle he had lost and sadly moved on with his life.

Though he hadn't seen or made contact with Tyris, Reaver often thought about her. Before or after a great battle, in moments of solitude, or even while he was reading in his study. It had ceased to pain him like it once did, but he often wondered how his life would be different if they had stayed together. He wasn't sure if it was his regrets or simply the onset of senility but he often imagined what he would say to her if he ever met her again. In his mind, he would apologize profusely for his defeat, swear his love for her, or simply take her into his arms and kiss her deeply and passionately. It seemed such a simple course of action but like so many other things in his long and bitter life it was nothing but a dream. That all changed when Franksada presented his guest.

Reaver trembled when he realized who it was. There was no way it could have been a clone, a doppelganger or some sort of magician's disguise spell, his magical wards would have seen to that. She was exactly like she had remembered, long of limb, lean physique, narrow of face, reddish brown hair, golden skin, and of course her mesmerizing amber eyes. Frank put it crudely when he said she was pretty enough but not exactly spellbindlingly beautiful, though the lecherous knight often made the point in saying that he would never kick her out of his bed. She was a unique looking woman amongst the northmen, but from his travels Reaver learned that she wasn't quite as unusual when compared to the southern peoples of Thyatis or the Karamekios.

Reaver looked at her in shock, and praised the gods for being given a second chance. He summoned all the words that he dreamed of saying to her, but none came out.

"Leave! Be gone from my sight! " Reaver demanded angrily. All thought of reconciliation vanished as buried feelings of betrayal and abandonment bubbled up from his soul. How dare she show up now! She had shunned him for over a century and suddenly showed up on the eve of his greatest campaign. Did she plan on throwing his plans into disarray by turning his life upside down? How could she think of simply walking back into his life after so many lonely years? Was his feelings simply a toy for her to play with?

Frank stepped between the Warlord and Dancer. "Reaver, have you lost your mind? Don't you know who this is? " asked the old knight in confusion.

"Of course I know who she is? Do you think me blind?" scowled the Warlord.

"Don't do this Reaver," cautioned Baalphzon. " Listen, I'm from the lower planes, and even I know you're making a big mistake. You'll regret this if you send her away now, don't let your emotions control you." Reaver shot the imp a cold gaze. He felt betrayal as his allies were ganging on him, but he stood up to them defiantly. He was the Warlord of Grom, the master of the feared War Ravens. He would harbor no dissent, especially in his own war Camp.

"I'm sorry," apologized Tyris, stunned at the turn of events. "I should have never come," she added as she stepped back into the shadows. Before she vanished, Frank shot out an arm at her with surprising speed and grabbed her wrist. Tyris could have struggled against him, but meekly stopped form his hold.

"One sec Tyris," pleaded Frank earnestly before turning an angry stare at his friend.

"What's come over you dumbass? This is Dancer…Tyris. C'mon the woman you've been pining for …like for ever. I've found her hanging out with those Demon hunter contractors after the battle with Doresain," explained Frank slowly. "Sure she looks a lot younger than she should, but no need to be jealous. If anything we should get the name of her longevity potion dealer, cuz compared to her , the potions we're quaffing obviously sucks."

Reaver shook his head at Franks unwanted attempt at a jest. While Tyris had obviously fooled the old knight, she would not fool him. "What do you want from me? Why step back in my life, now of all times? Do you want money? Are you sent by my enemies? Or are you simply playing with my life once again? Am a merely a plaything to you? " barked Reaver at a cowering Tyris.

Tyris was overcome with tears and simply twisted her hand lightly to evade Frank's firm grip. "I'm sorry," she repeated as she looked at Reaver one final time. With a single step backwards she melded into the dark shadows of the tent and vanished from their sight.

"You think I don't know what you are? You aren't even human! You think you have me fooled!", shouted Reaver into the darkness. His shouts were swallowed by the merriment of the victory celebration and Reaver once again felt the shadow of solitude engulf him. He instantly regretted what he just said, but he would not back down once he had said them.

While Tyris had fled from his presence, Reaver knew he had to explain this to Frank. He turned to face his comrade and was met by a solid punch across the jaw from the old knight. Reaver fell to the ground from the surprisingly strong blow, but was helped back up by his comrade.

"Sorry, but you deserved that sucker punch you idiot," scolded Frank. "Like what were you thinking? Don't tell me she means nothing to you , cuz I know it's not true. Everytime we get plastered you eventually start your moping about her."

"The old knight speaks the truth," agreed Baalphzon. "Your actions seem rather rash."

Reaver waved the pair of them away. "I've known where she was for decades now, and guessing from my reputation she knew where I was as well. I guess you could say it was mutually agreed upon that we would go our separate paths," sighed the Warlord. "The day I lost her to the Great Horde, is the day she died to me, and I would like to keep it that way. Having her enter my life now is nothing but a distraction from my ultimate goal." Reaver knew he was lying to both his friend and himself, but it was all he could think of at this point.

Frank shook his head, "You cold hearted deluded bastard. I have half a mind to leave, but this is bigger than just you. The War Ravens, Ymir's thaig and half of Grom is depending on you," spat the knight as he watched Reaver resume packing his gear. "You know, she's a crap bard, but she's pretty good at the hiding thing, we could have used her to scout," he noted .

Reaver nodded in agreement. He could have handled that so much better, but he let his anger and pride get in the way. He didn't even realize he harbored such dark emotions to his Tyris, but it didn't surprise him that he did. Deep down he knew he was just a spiteful and scared old man. He rather drive Dancer away than deal with her face to face.

Frank shrugged at the lack of response and walked to Reaver's collection of liquors. He poured two drinks and offered one to Reaver. "So what were you spouting about when you said she's not human. You mean she's one of those aasimar guys ? Or does she have elf blood in her? That would explain her youthful appearance," the knight asked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"The Grandfather of assassins told me not only where to find her, but what she was. She might appear human, but she's more like a fallen demi god. One of many dark souls that attempted to walk the path of immortality but failed miserably in doing so, " sighed Reaver.

Frank rasied an eyebrow ,"Pfft…fallen immortal eh? Whateva….and grandfather of assassins? Since when did you meet him? Myths and legends. You'd think you would be top on his hit list, if such a person existed, " scoffed the old knight as he poured himself another drink. "Gawd knows you've made enough enemies that someone would put a price on your head."

Reaver chuckled at his friend, "You've met him before, but you most likely forgot. He's very …how should I put it, non-descript. The last time you saw him, he was under the guise of a gardener," explained the Warlord.

Frank laughed as he emptied his glass," Some guy that mows your lawn tells you that your ex girl friend is a fallen immortal, and you believe him? Yeessh….I'm having second thoughts now of following you on this whole campaign. I should just pack up and go now."

Reaver raised his glass in a toast before downing his drink as well," Well, if negotiations go bad with Duke Ari, then I suggest you get a head start," he said with a sad smile.

* * *

The celebrations were wrapping up when Martinez and his demon hunter's reached camp. The War Ravens congratulated on their great victory but readied themselves for the long march ahead. While Doresain was defeated, there was still Duke Ari at their heels, and the Great Horde of Yeenoghu in front.

Martinez would have oversaw his group's preparations for the long march ahead, but instead he turned the duties over to Raoul. The half giant grunted and complained but Martinez's mind was on other things.

The duelist had only met Tyris briefly but he already harbored deep feelings towards her. She was just some girl she met at the looney bin, but she turned out to be much more than that. There was something about her that he couldn't put a finger on. The more Martinez thought about it, the more he wondered why he was so attracted to her. It definitely wasn't her conversation skills since she seldom talked. Martinez also had met many women in his travels that were equal or better than him at the blade, but that wasn't what attracted him to her either. Also, while she considered her pretty, the duelist agreed that she was unremarkable in appearance, especially compared to some of the beauties he had courted in his past.

Martinez wondered if it might have been the fact she was seemed so vulnerable at times, but quickly dismissed that notion. He was never a white knight kind of guy, and she definitely didn't seem like a maiden in distress. He doubt it was magic , since his entire crew was trained to detect it. From Raoul's nose, to Rollo's vision, to even Sammy's wards, they would have sensed an enchantment long ago if there was one. Whatever the reason, Martinez felt his thoughts drifted towards her more and more lately , and he admitted he rather enjoyed them.

The fact that Tyris left with that pompous ass Franksada just made matters worse for the duelist. He felt jealousy boil within him as his girl simply left with the lecherous old knight. He wasn't sure if Tyris knew that she was his girl, but that didn't change the fact that she wasn't at his side. It seemed rather silly for him to act this way, but Martinez admitted if anything he was a rather impulsive individual.

As the duelist fumed at being left alone by the mysterious bard, he suddenly felt a light touch and a gentle breath on his shoulder. In his travels only a few people could sneak up on him like that, and he doubt it was the barbarian Princess Nymk or the Dark Lion of Grom. Martinez smiled as he knew that his Tyris had returned to him, and turned to face her with a cheerful smile.

Martinez immediately saw something was wrong as he noted a hint of despair on her face and the hint of dry tears on her cheeks. The duelist immediately thought that Sir Franksada had done something to hurt his Tyris, but quickly dispelled that foolish thought. If anyone could evade the grasps of that old man, it was the woman before him.

"I'm sorry Martinez, I have to go. I have to finish what I started so long ago," she stated quietly.

Martinez wasn't sure what she was saying but he knew it was serious. "What?", he asked blankly.

Tyris ignored the question. "Hush seems to have found her place here, found her hero , found her champion. I want you to keep an eye on them," she asked. Martinez nodded as she recalled how the little fiend seemed mesmerized by the demonic warrior Halvor. They pair had only met and fought together briefly, but they seemed to hit it off rather well. The duelist was about to point out the short span of the pair's relationship, but held his tongue. His time with Tyris wasn't much longer.

"I was foolish to come here. I'm so sorry about this, "she apologized again as she stared at him with her amber eyes. "I used you. I wanted to see the Warlord, to see Reaver. I was too terrified at first, but Frank…"

Martinez felt his world crash down on him. He still wasn't sure what was going on , but he had a good guess. The girl was in love with someone else, it was as simple as that. The fact it was Warlord Reaver, one of the most powerful men in Grom didn't matter. The duelist simply shook his head and held a finger to his lips.

Tyris's eyes welled up again, and Martinez saw his cue. He hugged the young woman tenderly and let her spend her tears on his shoulders. To most people, Tyris was cold,distant and perhaps odd, but Martinez knew it wasn't true. She was just good at hiding her feelings, but nothing could be buried forever.

"It sounds like things didn't go too well, and I guess you are leaving. What will you do now?" he asked when she settled down.

Tyris stared at the duelist. Martinez knew she was studying his face, probably trying to read his motivation. He was well trained in hiding his emotion under such scrutiny when he wanted but he attempted no such action. He was hurt, lonely, sad , and curious all at the same time, and he didn't mind her knowing it.

Tyris broke eye contact and lowered her head. "It seems stupid, but I'm going to finish what I started a century ago. I'm going to climb the great plateau."

Martinez heard only legends and myths of the Great Plateau. It was supposedly an area with the quasi unique trait that magic didn't work there. It wasn't the top place in the world where people journeyed to discover themselves, and was considered more of an anomaly and a tourist attraction. Despite this Martinez found himself at a crossroads.

The duelist stopped and stepped back from Tyris. He looked at his companions busy packing their gear. The old paladin Rollo was carefully packing the tents, and Martinez knew he would miss his wisdom. He saw Sammy check on their weapons, and he regretted not teaching her more than he could. Finally he saw Raoul, his oldest friend and companion. Together they had survived so many life and death situations that he had lost count.

Martinez then turned to Tyris and beamed a smile. "You're going to the plateau? What a coincidence. Did I mention that's where I was headed too?"

Tyris shook her head and leaned up to the duelist and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Thank you for the offer, but I must do this alone," she said as she stepped into the darkness.

Martinez folded his arms together. "You know, we've only been together briefly but you should know by now that I'm both impulsive and stubborn. Even if I can't see you, that doesn't mean I won't go to the plateau by myself. I just think it would be safer for the both of us, if …well you know, we travel together. "

Martinez waited but the darkness did not respond. The duelist considered his options once more and then sighed in defeat. He walked to his half giant comrade and decided his course of action.

"Raoul, I'm taking a break for a while. You take care of the shop and keep an eye on Hush till I get back, " ordered Martinez.

"In case you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of nowhere," argued the half giant.

"I know, but this can't wait," admitted Martinez. "Listen, you guys can quit or whatever, but I have to do this. "

Raoul grunted. "You know, you're the biggest idiot I've ever worked for. You're just lucky we have history together, " he stated before assisting Rollo in packing," You got two weeks before I take over this side show."

Martinez was about to protest, but nodded at his friend with a smile. He readied his own pack and prepared for his own journey. He wasn't quite sure where this Great Plateau was but he was willing to find it. He only knew it was in the northwest somewhere, and guessed that was as good a direction as any to start. He also wasn't sure if he could find Tyris, or if she even harbored any feelings for him. All he knew was that the woman he loved was headed there, and that was a good enough reason for him to follow.

Martinez took only a light pack on his journey. He reasoned that he needed to travel fast if he stood any chance of catching Tyris. He wasn't too concerned with supplies since he had magical items to help with food and water. Even if he hit an anti magic zone, he thought he could scrounge up whatever he needed to get by.

Satisfied with his hasty preparations the duelist made his way out of the War Ravens camp. It was easy enough to evade the sentries, and soon he found himself alone in the wilderness.

"Raoul is right, I'm the biggest idiot there is," he said to himself as he trekked towards his distant goal.

"Thank you ," came a soft voice from the shadows. An unseen hand grabbed his and pulled him into the darkness. "I have a soft spot for idiots you know."


	14. Chapter 14

Zax shifted nervously on the lone snowy hill. It was the tallest point of the desolate Slays Plains, and the Captains and Commanders of Ari's legion stood at attention there. Despite his time with the legion, he was still not accustomed to the appearances of his monstrous and fiendish colleagues, and he tried to avoid their direct gaze. Even the seemingly normal humanoid looking ones like Reinhardt or Dahana gave him the shivers that the cold could not.

Zax felt the stares of his colleagues at his back and he wondered if they were sizing him up like Grizzlebug did, and were picking an opportune moment to challenge or fight him.

"Grxinhelx," corrected Galatea telepathically.

The now one headed Grixxeldorf attempted to usurp Zax's position in the Legion but paid for the attempt dearly. Zax would have been happy if the bizarre collection of bones, skull heads, and spiked tails took his position in the vanguard, but the creature pushed him too far. He wasn't sure how, but he managed to wield Galatea and stop the creature by chopping off one of his heads. Ever since then he had enjoyed a position of favor from Duke Ari and the rest of his monsters, but that still didn't sit easy with Zax. Even now, he was at his Infernal master's side as they waited their esteemed guest. The thought of which made him even more nervous than any of the monstrous stares directed at him.

"Who are we expecting again? He appears to be someone that even Duke Ari places in high esteem. Someone named Insector, correct? " asked Galatea in his mind. " He definitely isn't an Archduke, and I haven't been in that cave long enough for a new daemon to take the mantle of horseman of Tarterus. Is he some sort of newly spawned demon lord, perhaps one of the foul Obyrith?"

Zax shook his head and gave a cocky grin. " Insector is the greatest of Tiefling champions. A terrible warrior that defeated every Champion the Grommers set against him roughly a century ago. His victories caused riots and almost closed down the great Coliseum but he vanished as mysteriously as he appeared. Since that time he's only been heard of on a few occasions, but most of them have proven to be false sightings," explained the tiefling in a low voice.

Several of Zax's colleagues gave curious glances to their orange comrade as he appeared to have been talking to himself, but they didn't question his behavior. It was well known that he conversed to voices in his head, a trait that didn't seem too bizarre compared to the rest of his monstrous brethren.

"Coliseum? He's just a gladiator? "asked Galatea in amazement. "All of this pomp and show for some common pit fighter?"

Zax snorted," Some common pit fighter? That's like saying my sword is a rusty butter knife," he laughed.

Galatea fell silent for a few moments at the crude comparison.

"hmm….so how do you know this person that is the real Insector. Judging by the reaction he is getting, it seems impersonating Insector is a good thing," noted Galatea.

Zax sniffed knowingly. "Nobody in their right minds would try to pretend to be Insector. The man is pure evil. I'm talking about Demogorgon evil, the demon whose name sounds like Borcus evil, or even Ambassador Gary evil. You can't simply pretend to be that sinister or dark. Your head would explode or something. Insector's soul is said to be blacker than the pits of the Abyss. When I was young, I saw him duel in the arena. He fought a local favorite called Wolf girl," Zax paused at the memory and a brief shudder shook him like the cold never could. " She was a beautiful elven girl if I recall,; lithe , short dark hair and the most striking green eyes; but that didn't stop him from killing her. He had her beat and could have accepted her surrender but he smashed her face in with his hammer. A common enough occurrence in the arena, but there were rumors that they were former lovers once. Rumors that he didn't deny I might add. "

"When Yamon's riders heard Insector was coming to talk to Duke Ari, various divination and commune spells have been cast to determine his truth. Every portent says that the real Insector is coming right here to this camp and not just some impersonator," stated Zax. " Just look at everyone. They're all in awe or terrified of the man, myself included. I doubt anyone would try to 'pretend' to be him. If they for a second thought he was a fake, they would rip him apart in a heart beat."

Isula heard the last part of his speech and brushed up close towards him. He tried grasping her hand a few times but she easily avoided his grip. After a few failed attempts she relented , most likely to continue their lover charade for Lililithy or one of his other subordinates, and reluctantly grasped it. He then smugly lowered the temperature of his skin since the last thing he wanted to do was to burn the albino's sensitive hands. Without his heat aura, he felt the bitter chill around him, but he gladly sacrificed that for her firm but reassuring touch.

"Why appear now? What does he want from the Legion," the small frost giant asked with a slight annoyance in her voice.

Zax shrugged, he had no clue of why Insector chose now to talk to Ari. He heard rumors that he wished to usurp the Duke and take over the Legion, or perhaps to join their ranks as their newest Champion. Zax found both cases unlikely, while the Legion had suffered a few losses to the War Ravens, and similarly a few blows to their reputation and morale, as whole the mercenary company was still strong and united. Zax knew there was open questioning of Ari's policies but no one had the actual balls to confront the Duke directly about them. Zax could see the Legion being taken over if they fell into more shambles , but Ari had just enough support from his officers to stave off such an occurrence. The only person that was capable of replacing Ari would be one of his inner circle, and since Gizzleburg's defeat, that would be Yamon or laughably himself.

Zax glanced at Yamon. He wasn't sure if anything was actually contained in that large suit of smoking armor, but the tiefling knew that the legion's leading Cavalry commander was too much of a soldier to consider challenging Ari for leadership. As for himself, Zax had no designs to be here for long. Despite his meteoric rise in rank, Zax had already laid plans to skip out of the Legion before the big show down with the War Ravens. The cunning tiefling had already plotted an escape route to flee with Izzy and Gally when the time was right. He even set up large supply caches along the way to help expedite their escape to the Shattered Mountains. He planted much more than he could possibly use, but it was easier to tell his subordinates he was securing their lines rather than trying to mask his escape. It was a simple enough task for a former supply officer like himself, and even his troops didn't question him when he bombarded them with talk of logistics and supply chains.

As Zax considered his future escape, the keen eyed Dahana pointed off into the distance before flying next to Duke Ari and kneeling subserviently. In the distance a lone rider was pushing through the snow towards them. Zax felt the apprehension at meeting the world's greatest tiefling but instead took stock of Ari and Dahana instead. He shook his head at the pair. Officially the dark winged archer was his consort, but the Duke treated her worse than a common whore. The tiefling didn't pretend to know anything about Lower planar vassal relationships, but Dahana was one of the more competent and likeable of his fellow commanders, and he felt she deserved better treatment.

"At attention everyone! " shouted Ari as he rode his War Mammoth to meet the newcomer. "Dahana, Yamon, Zax, and Grxinhelx shall accompany me."

"Be careful," commanded Isula as he glared at Zax. The tiefling hoped to catch a hint of worry in the small albino's voice but found none. He still wasn't sure if she actually cared for him, and wondered if she saw him only as a useful tool or ally. Zax gave her a mock salute before racing to catch up to his leader.

When they reached the bottom of the hill, Reinhardt appeared out of thin air and bowed before the duke, " My lord Grxinhelx is still weakened from his defeat at…..Commander Zax's hands. He believes it would serve your best interest if I took his spot in your honor guard."

Duke Ari eyed the light blue skinned tiefling warily, but conceded with a dismissive gesture with his hand. Zax wasn't sure if Reinhardt's presence made him feel safer or not, since he knew that wasn't his real form. From all accounts, the blue skinned tiefling was supposed to be some horrible chitinous monster. After witnessing him take apart Isula, he had no doubt of the creature's power but wondered if he trusted it or the approaching Insector more.

As the lone figure approached slowly through the snow swept plains, an idea came to Zax.

"Gally, you're telapathetic right?" asked the tiefling.

"The term is telepathic," responded the sword in curt annoyance.

"Whateva…hey can you scan that guy's mind. See if he's the real Insector. I bet I can earn some brownie points with the boss if I reveal him as a fake," explained Zax.

Galatea remained silent and the tiefling guessed she was attempting to fulfil his wish. After a brief pause the blade almost shook in his scabbard. "I can only do a cursory scan but I sense a dark mind, full of confidence and power, as well as a disturbing amount regret and a great bitterness. He's slain or was responsible for the deaths of thousands if not tens of thousands, and he thought it not too many. For all intents and purposes, his mind resonates no deception to who he is. He is Insector amongst his other aliases …. Warl…."

Zax cut her short with a brief surge of panic and excitement. "That's the real Insector? The real McDunn? Koryis's beard, I don't know if I should squee like a little girl or run for the hills," exclaimed the tiefling in barely contained enthusiasm.

"Please…don't squee or whatever you are about to do," commented Dahana as she overhead the conversation. "Let's try to have some dignity when confronting him."

Zax was a bit shocked she overheard him but guessed it shouldn't have surprised him since she was the Legion's head scout. It took a moment to regain his composure, when he had done so, the gladiator named Insector was already before them.

Insector was a tall man, a bit on the lanky side, but possessed a coolness about him that gave the collected infernals pause. He wore a partly rusted full faced insect helmet to hide his deformed features, and carried both a broadsword and a heavy warhammer at his side. Zax noted that the man's armor was reminiscent of the War Raven's gear, but assumed that he had simply salvaged it off a mercenary he had slain.

"How do you know he's a tiefling under that mask? " asked Gally.

"Pfft…who would pretend they're a tiefling, " snorted Zax. "That's like pretending you got a disease, or pretending you're an idiot."

"Indeed, who would pretend to be a lowly tiefling, "commented an imp that appeared from behind the lone rider and hovered before them. Zax noted that the small reddish creature was unusual for his species in both that it was extremely broad and muscular and also it carried itself like a noble rather than a sniveling little spy like most imps normally were. "Duke Ari, Reinhardt,…..oh and here's a surprise ..the lovely lady Galatea," added the imp as it bowed to his hosts.

Duke Ari flashed a confused look towards Zax, and it looked as if he was searching for something. When the Duke saw nothing he turned his attention to Reinhardt. The blue skinned tiefling nodded at his lord and took a step forwards.

"General Baalphzon, so good to see you after so many millennium. I am disappointed to see that you are still cursed, but such is the fate of the losers in hells many power struggles," praised Reinhardt in a sincere bow.

The imp called Baalphzon laughed, " Please Captain Reinhardt, we were the victors of that struggle, and this is our reward. Two exiles working for second rate mercenaries and gladiators where once the very foundations of reality trembled at our passing."

Reinhardt smiled and shook his head. " We might have won on the battlefields of Stygia, but clearly we did not cover our political flanks."

Duke Ari snarled at the reunion. "Enough Imp! You may know me, but I don't know you. You should be careful to address me in such a casual manner," he snarled while his normally comely features took a more bestial aspect.

Baalphzon seemed unfazed by the threat and simply flew to Insector's shoulder. Zax guessed the little runt was confident his lord would protect him if it came to blows, and judging by the tiefling champion's reputation , his confidence was probably well founded.

"Careful Zax, " warned Galatea. " Baalphzon is more dangerous than he looks, much more dangerous," she noted ominously.

Zax rolled his eyes, "Gotcha, imps have poison tails or something right? They give big welts or something," he chortled softly.

"Silence!" demanded Insector at the chatter before him. "I've come before you Duke Ari, to secure your services. "

Ari snickered at the gladiator. "Come now, I'm already under employment by the demon lord Yeenoghu, and my battle with the War Ravens is close at hand. Perhaps after my contract is fulfilled I can entertain your offer."

Insector paid little heed to the Infernal Duke. Instead he tossed a large sack into the snow. When it hit the ground it spilled all forms of shiny silver and dark iron bars and talents, gems of all descriptions, and what appeared to be oddly squirming worms. While Zax couldn't identify the worms at first, he noted that they smelled exceptionally tasty and immediately realized that they were larvae, base demonic souls that were used as a form of exchange in the underworld; a delicacy that he had heard of but never had the opportunity to sample.

Duke Ari hesitated at the treasure and Zax saw he practically drooled at it. The Infernal lord took a step towards it but stopped himself. "Mithral and adamant trade bars, astral diamonds, and even larvae. The mighty Insector is a tiefling of great means it seems. "

"That's just an initial retainer. Those whose interests that I represent, promise much more if you fulfil their objectives," offered Insector. Zax was impressed by the masked tiefling, most creatures of the outer planes barter with honeyed words ,violent bluster, or even circular loop hole filled contracts, but Insector was direct and got right to the point. As a businessman himself, Zax respected that. Even the infamous contract devils of the hells were more like used carriage salesman unlike an actual businessman like the tiefling before him.

"And what, oh mighty Insector, do you require of my legion?" asked Ari suspiciously.

Insector motioned to Baalphzon which promptly produced a floating map before them. "The City of Lower Lueders has long been held by the witch queen Cerasum. While she conquered the city with the help of the Avatar of Myleka and the Pharoh Dow Mow, her lieutenants had long left her service. She only holds it now, due to its geographic location deep within Gnoll territory and…"

"…the threat of Ari's Legion between it and Grom, "nodded Reinhardt.

Ari paused and appeared to consider his offer, but then laughed haughtily. "You expect me to abandon my contract and risk the wrath of Yeenoghu to fight my former ally? For what? A few monetary trinkets?"

Insector remained coolly silent, but Zax noted dissention in his fellow commanders. Such a thing would never be tolerated in a proper army, but the tiefling knew that times in the legion were tough, and tough times meant insubordination in a mercenary army.

"Cerasum's forces have been lax in the defense of the city. They've relied on our efforts for much too long to protect it. If we were to attack them, we could catch them by surprise and bypass their almost non-existent resistance," noted Vallon. Zax noted the smoke being emitted by his armor turned a tad darker and greener.

"It always clawed at me that our mostly devil legion is charged to protect a demon controlled city. We suffer on scraps while they enjoy the pleasures of the city. Long have I harbored an urge to strike down every succubus that floated carefree above that city's sky line," added Dahana, with her dark feathers bristling with anger.

"A mercenary company operates on its coffers not its honor. I do not presume to speak for commander Grxinhelx, but the payments given to us by Yeenoghu has been slim and infrequent as of late," commented Reinhardt.

"Did I ask you worms for your opinon? " growled Duke Ari. His massive war mammoth reared up and slammed the ground with its massive feet, causing all in the area to slightly lose their balance. "While you scum fight for coins and souls, I fight for honor. I should execute the lot of you for assuming to sway my decisions. I am the leader here, and the legion does what I say. We have a contract with Yeenoghu and I intend to keep it. I should sacrifice every one of you to his dark altars to remind you of this . "

Insector seemed unmoved by the wrath of Ari, but the legion's commanders squirmed at the threats. Zax saw the anger in their eyes, but saw that none of them had the guts to challenge the Duke. The snow cover plains fell silent at the tension that was now thick in the cold air.

"Ahem….can I make a point," interjected Zax . He didn't want to be part of any fighting, whether it was against the War Ravens or Cerasum's demon city, he just wanted to get the hell out of here. However with so much treasure before them, the tiefling couldn't help himself and offer his own insight into the affair.

Duke Ari shot Zax a withering glare, but the tiefling missed it and continued anyways.

"I want to point out that as a whole Infernals are an honorable people. Despite the bad press we get from the so called 'races of light' we always honor our contracts and Duke Ari here is no exception," began the tiefling. Duke Ari smiled and nodded at the praise and seemed to relax a bit.

"….HOWEVER…." continued Zax. " After our untimely defeat at the hands of the War Ravens north of the Shattered Mountains, our contract ensures us first rights to a rematch against said victors. If we were negligent or our forces insufficient in pursuing another battle, then such rights would be waived and another force of Yeenoghu's choosing would engage our mercenary rivals. I note that our force has been diligent in tracking our foes down , and have done an admirable job in harassing them, but the right of first battle after our loss was given to Doresain the Ghoul King and his undead hordes instead of to ourselves. "

Zax saw Ari bristle at being reminded of his recent defeat but he pressed onwards. He wasn't sure if it was his infernal blood or perhaps decades of running a carriage business that had taught him to double check all contracts, but he had and he was determined to make his point known. Afterall, what's the point of knowing a point of law if one can't exploit and flaunt it.

"Since our original employer has shown no confidence in our ability to defeat the War Ravens, and more importantly, has offered no reparations to us for transferring those rights to Doresain, I assume that our contract with Yeenoghu is void till we can properly renegotiate our terms. And since Insector here has offered us new terms, it would put us at a grevious disadvantage if we ignore his offer," stated Zax confidently.

"The orange one is correct," noted Baalphzon. "You should do well to listen to the consul of your commanders."

The other commanders of the legion stared at Zax, and blinked at him in disbelief, but soon congratulated on his knowledge of tort law. While demons were known to place value on how destructive their leaders were, infernals due to their devilish nature, put more value on business acumen. Zax expected Ari to shower him with similar praise, since he had offered him a way out of his contract with Yeenoghu and a chance at some easy loot from Insector, but the Infernal lord practically seethed in anger.

"Silence dog! Who are you to question my decisions, "roared Ari, his handsome feature's now contorted to a mask of anger and wrath. The leader of the legion turned his massive War Mammoth towards Zax and it raised its great feet above his head, ready to stomp him into the ground. Yamon and Dahana scrambled out of the way, while Reinhardt simply disappeared and reappeared a good hundred feet away from the rest of them.

"Errr…" replied Zax paralyzed with fright.

"Move Zax! " shouted Galatea mentally in his head. "I can't reach either Ari's or his war beast's accursed throat. I'm powerless from this position. You have to run now."

Despite her warnings, Zax stood motionless. His brain screamed for him to hide , but sheer fear overloaded his senses and caused him to just stand there like some giant orange target dummy.

"Let this be a lesson to all of you! " shouted Ari high above on his Mammoth. The Duke's voice rang across the plains so that even the other Captains and Commanders still on the hill could hear him. "The legion only has one leader, and that's me. Woe to those that do not respect my position! Stomp him flat!"

"No…Zax!" screamed a voice in the distance. Zax's fear was momentarily dispelled as he realized it was Izzy, and she appeared to be full of concern. The tiefling knew he couldn't escape his fate, but felt a moment of calm when he heard the worry in her voice.

"Well at least I know she cares, " he thought as he awaited his fate to be a pancake.

To everyone's surprise, especially Zax's, the mammoth's foot did not fall. Instead the creature balanced itself on its great back legs and extended its massive trunk towards the tiefling. It sniffed Zax, specifically his pocket where he kept his 'special' apples, before bringing its massive feet down well away from the tiefling.

"Stomp him flat I say! " shouted Ari again in frustration when he realized that the Mammoth was not obeying his commands. The infernal Duke kicked his war mount in the head, and drove his spurs deep within its neck. When those actions did not spur his mount, the Duke jabbed the creature in the back of his skull with his flaming hell spear.

The Great Mammoth trumpeted angrily and reared up once again. Duke Ari smiled smugly, but his expression quickly changed to fright as the trunk of his Mammoth snaked around his waist.

"What are you doi….." shouted Ari, before being slammed repeatedly into the cold tundra by the Mammoth's trunk. After striking the ground a few bone crunching times, the Mammoth began treading repeatedly on the Duke's broken form, till he was nice and flat. After that, the Mammoth began impaling what was left of Ari's shattered body with his tusk, and after it was done with that, the creature began stuffing the paste that remained of the Duke into its great maw.

Everyone that witnessed the gruesome spectacle took a step back. Even the seemingly unflappable Insector seemed repulsed by the violence. The maddened War Mammoth then turned to Zax once again and extended its trunk toward's the tiefling.

Zax thought his fate would be the same as Ari's but then he realized what it wanted when it began sniffing his pocket. "Oh it wants an apple, " he declared as he happily took out one of his special drug laced treats and fed it to the mammoth. The mammoth in return scooped up Zax , and to everyone's surprise, placed him on the now vacant saddle above his neck.

The Legion fell silent as they tried to comprehend what had just happened.

"Errr….all hail Zax….the new leader of the Legion ? " questioned Reinhardt cautiously.

The rest of the legion considered his statement and seemed content with that decision. "All hail Zax, leader of Zax's Legion! " they shouted.

"Umm …what just happened ?" asked Galatea in confusion.

Zax shrugged ,"I dunno but let's just go with it." With that, he guided the War Mammoth to the hill, where Isula happily hopped aboard and squeezed the tiefling in a loving embrace.

"That was one of the most violent things I've ever seen! " she declared. " I loved it!" Even though she extolled in the carnage she witnessed, Zax noted a gentles in her touch, and noted a wetness in her eyes.

Zax wasn't sure how to react to her but beamed at her smugly. He then guided the great war beast back towards Insector.

"I assume you are more conductive to my proposal than your predecessor? " asked the tiefling champion.

" Of course not. What do I look like, an idiot? " laughed the tiefling. Insector and the gathered commanders seemed taken aback by his response. "Did I mention I have a chain of supply caches back to the Shattered Mountains, that should be worth a few more bucks. A real businessman never accepts the first offer presented him."


End file.
